


What About Us?

by pherryt



Series: New Clint Barton Bingo [10]
Category: Marvel, Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: A/B/O, Alpha!Bucky, Alpha!Clint, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Angst, Beta!Steve, Blow Jobs, Competition, Dancing, Domestic, Feelings, Fluff, Frotting, Hand Jobs, M/M, Mirrors, Non-Traditional Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, One Night Stand, Panic Attacks, Rimming, Secret Relationship, Shower Sex, Tony Is a Good Bro, Wall Sex, awkward morning afters, deaf!Clint, ditching a party, omega!stark, sex friends - Freeform, shower, tower fic
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-04-22
Updated: 2021-01-19
Packaged: 2021-03-01 17:26:43
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 24,217
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23790781
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pherryt/pseuds/pherryt
Summary: Bucky's come in from the cold, Steve is being Steve, Tony wants to throw a party and Bucky has no idea who the Alpha is who asked him to dance (or why, when Bucky's been hiding in the corner all night to avoid people), but it suddenly looks like more than dancing is on the menu.
Relationships: James "Bucky" Barnes/Clint Barton, Winterhawk, minor others
Series: New Clint Barton Bingo [10]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1540606
Comments: 106
Kudos: 219
Collections: Bucky Barnes Bingo 2020, Clint Barton Bingo, Clint Barton Birthday Bash, Winterhawk Bingo Round Two





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> The Clint Barton Bingo is coming to an end and i have several partially written stories for it. I'm positive i am not finishing my card, but i hope to get a few more things bout, but i don't want to drop everything all at the same time (IF i can finish them). but i think this is safe enough to post - chapter 1 CAN be read as standalone, but i fully intend on expanding it.
> 
> Bingo Squares:  
> Clint Barton Bingo - O2 : hand job  
> Bucky Barnes Bingo - C1: One Night Stand

Bucky had just settled into the tower, just settled into a routine – nightmares and all – when the hurricane better known as Tony Stark decreed that a Welcome to the Tower party was in order.

Bucky, in point of fact, disagreed.

Parties meant people, meant crowds and noise and overpowering smells and intrusive questions. It was hard enough sometimes just coming down for dinner without running away.

Tony waved him off. “Don’t worry, I’ll keep it small and discrete. Just a few best friends.”

Steve sighed and looked at Tony. Tony raised his hands defensively. “I promise!”

And just like that, Steve gave in. Damn punk was a sucker for Stark’s big brown eyes, despite his protests to the contrary. Bucky watched it happen and just let it go. It wasn’t worth the fight, and he could always skip out early, right?

When the party opened, Steve looked around impressed, while Bucky looked around in horror. “Wow, Tony really kept his word.”

“It’s still too many people,” Bucky muttered, slinking in behind Steve and glancing around warily. A quick sniff told him only that there were far too many people in the room to pick out who was who.

“It’ll be _fine_ ,” Steve insisted. “Just say the word if you need a breather or a buffer. I’ll be right beside you the entire time.”

Bucky snorted but didn’t dispute it. He knew the second Stark batted his eyelashes at Steve, Steve would be lost. As usual. The two of them just needed to fuck it out, but Steve was a gentleman.

Supposedly, Bucky had been one once too, but hell if he could remember much of it. Now he could barely speak to a person without stammering or flinching back. He was too much trouble to be going out and picking up anybody, and he certainly wasn’t dating material, not anymore, regardless of what he’d once been.

Whatever that was.

Bucky endured the party, the sounds, the smells, with as much grace as he could muster. That wasn’t much, these days, but thankfully, no one seemed to be expecting more from him. He stayed in a corner and people watched, though several folks made it a point to drop by Bucky’s corner and introduce themselves.

There was Thor, an alpha with blond hair and more muscles than Steve had these days, smelling of ozone and metal. Guess that made sense, what with being the literal god of thunder and all.

Natasha, whose true scent was always masked by the perfumes and fake scents she used like a weapon, and whose secondary gender was always changing. Bucky had heard rumors of that from the Red Room – operatives who could change their secondary genders at will, making them the ultimate spy. It had been an experiment. Natasha had been the only test subject to live.

Tony, of course, whom Bucky already knew, even if Steve hadn’t been around to pine after the Omega. Stark who, despite his eccentricities - his lightning fast wit and the only slightly slower tongue – had welcomed Bucky with open arms into his personal space, had offered Bucky his own floor. Bucky had refused the overly generous offer, afraid to stray too far from Steve’s side

He _was_ a little concerned about that, though, how close Bucky was sticking to Steve, afraid the Omega might take it wrong. It was clear that Tony had something for Steve even if they were both too stubborn or blind to do anything about it.

Or maybe he really _was_ in the way? Bucky watched Steve blushingly ask Tony to dance and dance they did. Anyone looking at Steve would have thought he was an Alpha, and the Avengers let the world think that, but Steve was 100 % Beta – both before and after the serum. Of course, the people writing the history books hadn’t liked that, saying he’d gone from Omega to Alpha and since he’d been gone, there’d been no one left to refute.

Steve hadn’t cared a single lick anyway, nor had he believed it was anybody’s business.

Maybe Bucky should find a way to give Steve and Tony their space. Maybe he should accept Tony’s offer. It wasn’t like Bucky would be going far. Just another floor. If he really needed Steve for something – anything – he was just a shout away. JARVIS was very efficient.

The night droned on. The mix of people he knew and didn’t know was tolerable, so long as they didn’t get too close. Bucky fidgeted in the corner, fingers itching for a cigarette, uncertain what to do with himself. After the initial influx of people making their greetings, he’d been largely left alone, which was great – just the way he wanted it.

But what did he do now?

“How about a dance, handsome?”

The voice startled him, warm and rich and flirty, and Bucky jerked around to face a blonde taller than him – taller than _Steve_. He was gorgeous, too, not as built as Steve maybe, but he had muscles in just the right places that made Bucky drool.

Drool? Well, that was new.

A scent washed over him - dark, earthy tones, and coffee tinted - and before Bucky even realized it, he’d taken the outstretched hand and nodded at the stranger.

He couldn’t _really_ be a stranger, though, could he? Tony had invited him to the party, so he must be _somebody_.

The man was graceful, easily leading Bucky in a dance despite the fact that the dance had obviously been invented since the last time he’d gone dancing. It was easy to follow the other man’s nudges, easy to bask in the scruffy grins, easy to get lost in blue eyes –

What the hell was going on?

They didn’t talk much, but the tension between them grew with each step, Bucky gravitating closer to the other man, relishing his scent, feeling the warmth of his body. The man leaned in, lips brushing against Bucky’s ear as he spoke –

“I could be wrong, but I’m totally getting a vibe right now,” he said, the warmth of his breath making Bucky shiver. “I know we just met, but damn… I wanna kiss you so bad. Hell, maybe a little more than that too.”

“Yer not wrong,” Bucky said, gasping when the man pulled Bucky in tight, wrapping himself around Bucky and tilting his chin up.

“Thank fucking god,” he growled, before his lips descended on Bucky’s and it was all Bucky could do just to hold on tight to the other man.

This fella, he was different. Bucky’s Fight or Flight instincts (a little heavy on the Flight these days, to keep himself in control) weren’t engaging at all despite the extra close proximity. That normally only happened around Steve.

Should he be worried about that? Was the man some sort of siren? Dangerous? But no, if there was cause for worry, Steve would have warned him, right? The guy had to have been vetted to be allowed inside the Tower.

Fuck it, Bucky decided, letting himself melt into the other Alpha’s body and into the kiss, the lips moving softly against his. Double fuck it… he deserved something good, right? That’s what his therapist kept saying. This was good. This was… this was soft and heavenly.

Bucky whimpered, glad of the noise of the party – not even Steve would have heard that – as the kiss rapidly turned needy and dirty. His nose flared at the mingled scents of arousal coming from both of them and he knew they needed to get somewhere private, _now,_ or they’d be making a public spectacle of themselves.

And that was Steve’s thing, not Bucky’s.

The fella was graceful, easily guiding them across the space serving as a dance floor, still making it look like a dance even as they kissed and parted and kissed again.

“I don’t think I can wait to get my hands on you, handsome,” the fella groaned against Bucky’s lips before pulling back enough to look around, eyes flicking around them to fall on something that made the man’s mouth curve up into a wicked, wicked smile. “How do you feel about defiling one of Tony’s overly extravagant bathrooms?”

“Sounds better than a few other places I’ve defiled,” Bucky drawled, thinking of hurried, secretive meetups in some less than savory places way back when. “But I’ll admit, I don’t have much hankering to be caught with my pants down.”

The fella flashed him a deeper grin. “Don’t worry, JARVIS’ll have our back.”

And if that wasn’t another point in the ‘this Alpha was trusted’ category, just _knowing_ who JARVIS was and having _JARVIS’S_ trust, then Bucky didn’t know what was.

“All right,” he said wide eyed and a little breathlessly. He couldn’t help but look around the room, making sure no one saw him leaving with this stranger – though Bucky’s sure he’s done worse than hookup with complete strangers before and Steve probably knew all about it – and they made it out of the room, down the hall and into one of the - as the fella had said – overly extravagant bathrooms that the tower had.

As soon as the door was shut behind them, the fella glanced up at the ceiling – heh, look at that, it _wasn’t_ just Steve and Bucky who did that – and said, “Privacy mode, JARVIS.”

The lights flickered once in acknowledgement and Bucky already knew that JARVIS didn’t watch anything in the bathrooms, but he assumed this would also keep them from being disturbed. He was very on board with that. He stared at the long neck stretched up in front of him, and before the fella could look back down, Bucky leaned in and nosed along the scent glands, nipping and licking his way along that tantalizing bit of skin.

The fella groaned, tilting his head further for Bucky, baring himself completely for Bucky’s mouth and teeth. Bucky scraped his teeth along the fella’s throat, relishing in the deep groans that pulled from him. Hands hit Bucky’s waist and pulled their hips together and Bucky had to stop and gasp into the fella’s neck, panting as his hard cock met the other fella’s.

“You smell good,” the man whispered, rocking their hips together in a slow grind. Bucky could feel the taller man nuzzling into his hair, the hands at his waist slipping back to grab Bucky’s ass through his jeans. Bucky made an inarticulate sound of need, his own hands clenched tremblingly in the other man’s shirt.

The world spun, and he was being edged back towards the closed door and Bucky froze, a frisson of fear spiking through the desire.

“Don’t pin me down,” Bucky blurted breathlessly.

The fella gave him a careful look, understanding crossing his face. “Fair enough. Don’t touch my ears,” he murmured, swinging Bucky around, backing himself into the door instead and grinned. “And you can hold _me_ down as much as you like.”

That – and the very aroused scent Bucky had been breathing in from the other fella – had Bucky’s heart pounding in his chest and his dick even harder in his pants. Bucky groaned, slanting his mouth back over the strangers’, hand holding his jaw to tilt him down just right. Clint didn’t fight it, but his hands slid up from Bucky’s ass into Bucky’s hair, fingers digging into his scalp deliciously, giving him space.

Bucky trailed his fingers down, tracing hard, firm muscle through the fabric of a worn tee shirt before landing on the waist of a pair of jeans. His lips stuttered as his fingers skittered over the snap of the jeans.

“Easy, handsome,” the other man murmured. “Been a while? Or your first time with another Alpha?”

“Not my first time,” Bucky growled.

“So a bit of a dry spell, then,” the fella said. “Been there myself. No judging.” Even as he talked, the other fella’s fingers moved, unbuttoning Bucky’s pants, the slow sound of his zipper pulling down echoing through the room. “How about I just get my mouth on ya?”

Bucky gasped as a warm hand covered his cock through his undergarments – boxers, Stevie called them _boxers briefs -_ and his fingers spasmed over the fella’s jaw. The fella smirked and _dropped,_ leaving Bucky’s hands grasping at nothing. He slammed his palms against the door just as warm breath teased him through the cloth, followed by lips blazing a trail over his cock while the hands shifted, moved to part Bucky’s jeans and push them down a little out of the way.

Chancing a look down, Bucky got a good look at the blonde head at his feet, at the blissful expression on that freckled face as it moved along Bucky’s length. Long, calloused fingers pulled at the boxer briefs, sliding them down and exposing his cock.

“Well, look at you, handsome,” the fella murmured, sending a smirk up at Bucky before licking a stripe from root to tip so suddenly that Bucky let out a strangled sound. “Go ahead, make all the sound you want.”

That was the only warning Bucky got before his cock was suddenly engulfed by a hot, sinful mouth. It teased the head of his cock, lightly sucking, tongue sliding and swirling about, before pulling more of him in and setting to bobbing up and down. The hands had moved again, were once more on Bucky’s – now bare – ass, and the hands felt like a brand as they urged him to move.

He couldn’t take his eyes away from the sight of his cock slipping in and out of the other fella’s mouth, at those lips wrapped around him. He couldn’t stop the sounds escaping his own mouth. The other fella moaned around him, the vibrations adding to the pleasure building inside of Bucky, spiraling him higher and higher –

Fuck, when was the last time he’d felt _this fucking good?_

The other Alpha’s scent was flooding the room with his arousal, mingled with the faintly familiar scent of Bucky’s own, identified only from vague memories of before. The combined scent and sound and feeling were driving Bucky closer and closer to the edge –

The other fella shifted again, one hand going to Bucky’s knot, and it swelled as the fella massaged it and Bucky came with a shout, spilling into the other Alpha’s mouth, his head hitting the door with a dull thunk.

It was embarrassingly quick, but fuck, it had felt so good. So… so good. His head dropped and hit the door as he breathed fast and heavy, hips still jerking and the other Alpha licking and sucking down every bit of Bucky’s come.

The hands on his ass and knot flexed and kneaded and pulled in rhythm with the mouth still on his cock and Bucky came a second time, starting to slump into the door.

The other fella finally came off him with a wet, slick sound and eased Bucky down to the floor. Bucky could see the hard cock in the other fella’s jeans, the buttons already snapped open and the cock straining at the zipper, the barest hint of undergarments showing with a large damp spot. The other Alpha claimed Bucky’s mouth again and Bucky was feeling so good, that he grabbed at the fella and dragged him onto his lap. The needy, desperate kiss was filled with the taste of Bucky and he didn’t think he’d ever tasted himself like that before.

It was hotter than he’d thought.

The alpha rocked in Bucky’s lap and Bucky finally gave in to that original urge, reaching out for the fella’s cock, feeling his hard length through his clothes, pulling the zipper down and dipping his hand into his pants, into his undergarments.

The man gasped and groaned into Bucky’s mouth and Bucky took the encouragement, swiping his thumb over the top of the leaking dick in his hand, the set about doing a slow rhythm up and down the fella’s cock, twisting and squeezing at intervals, speeding up as he felt the knot beneath his fist swelling.

The kiss turned messy, the fella rocking into Bucky’s fist with a gasping, panting whine, arms wrapped around Bucky’s neck, hands buried in Bucky’s hair and pulling – not hard, but clinging, urging, wanting.

Bucky understood wanting.

He sped up his hand, watching the Alpha atop him coming apart and, with a last twist of Bucky’s hand, the fella shook and jerked and came, spurting come all over Bucky.

The fella shuddered, nipping at Bucky’s neck and gasping, hips still jerking in small motions as Bucky continued to move his hand up and down the still hard shaft.

“Fuck, fuck that was…” the fella groaned, still coming, plastered over Bucky’s front before stiffening on one last groan and becoming a boneless weight on top of Bucky.

Bucky should be panicking, having the strange Alpha draped all over him like that, close to the being pinned down that he _hadn’t_ wanted, but there had been no malice here, only pleasure and the weight, the _touch_ , was comforting in a way he hadn’t expected.

When their breathing finally evened out, the fella drew back with a smile halfway between a smirk and something soft, and then he glanced down between them and laughed a little ruefully.

“Fuck, I got your party clothes all messed up.”

“I don’t care,” Bucky said abruptly, realizing he didn’t. “I was done with the party anyway.”

The fella chuckled. “Y’know, I think I am too. That was, like, the _perfect_ , end of a party.” He groaned and stretched and Bucky suddenly wished they’d gotten their clothes _off_ so he could have seen that impressive physique with nothing in the way. “But I think if I don’t go back, someone might actually hunt me down and make me regret it.”

Bucky watched other man extricate himself from the tangle they’d become, reluctance in each and every movement. Even his scent betrayed how little he wanted to go back to the party and Bucky couldn’t blame him. He wanted to ask the fella to come back to his place – that was all right, these days – but it wasn’t _his_ space.

What gave Bucky the right?

Now he was regretting not taking Stark up on his offer.

So, quietly, they stood up, cleaning up at the sink – for Bucky, it really was a lost cause, the fella had got him _good_ – and then, after a last, departing kiss, the fella sauntered out of the bathroom, leaving Bucky to wonder if that had just happened.

Or if he’d ever see the other fella again.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's the morning after and Bucky wasn't expecting _this_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AND WE'RE BACK! I was just waiting on the Clint Amnesty period to post this one :D   
> This is another chapter that i think works without an IMMEDIATE need for followup (though i do plan on more)
> 
> Bucky Barnes Bingo - Square filled: B2 - Sex Friends  
> Clint Barton Bingo - Square filled: O5 - Mirror

The elevator dropped them off at the common floor and Bucky followed Steve out and towards the kitchen. Tony liked his wide open spaces and Bucky both loved and loathed them. They gave him less places to hide but also kept people from sneaking up on him.

He froze when he saw his mystery hook up from the night before, drinking straight out of the coffee pot, clad only in ratty purple boxers with… targets on them.

He hadn’t been wearing those last night – where the fuck did he get them? Had he hooked up with someone else at the party? And why did that make his stomach turn sour?

Bucky’s heart pounded as an even better question occurred to him. Several, actually. What and why was the guy still here? And on the Avengers floor, no less, instead of one of the Guest floors?

“Clint!” Steve said cheerfully – and was that _relief_ in his voice? “When’d you get in?”

Blinking, Bucky stared in horror at Steve and Clint and the unfolding events. Steve _knew_ this guy? Wait… Clint – that sounded awful familiar. His heart sank. Oh no, had he fucked a teammate? Was everything going to be fucked up now because of it?

“Hey Steve,” Clint grunted in return. If he or Steve were aware of Bucky’s turmoil – and they had to be! – they were ignoring it. “Got in last night, saw there was a party. What’s the occasion? Or was Tony just feeling a party mood?”

“You know he doesn’t really do that anymore,” Steve said. “There actually was an occasion. Clint, I’d like you to meet my best friend – Bucky. Bucky this is Clint, sometimes known as Hawkeye.”

Hawkeye? Shit, Bucky knew who Hawkeye was. He was a SHIELD Agent, one HYDRA had always been wary of.

Steve stepped aside to give Clint a clearer view of him and Bucky almost ran, Steve beaming proudly and encouragingly at him. He knew Bucky was upset, but he had no _idea_ why, and that small blessing was what Bucky was holding on to.

As for Clint –

Bucky had to hand it to him.

Clint got Steve good when the coffee spewed from his mouth, just as Steve had grabbed hold of a reluctant Bucky to pull him forward, all with murmurs of “Don’t worry, Clint’s a great guy” as soon as Clint finally got a good look at Bucky.

“Holy Fuck.” Clint choked and stammered, wiping at his face with the back of his hand and setting the coffee pot down carefully, scrambling for a towel, his eyes wide and obviously looking for a graceful way out of answering Steve’s suspicious look.

Bucky was up for that. He certainly didn’t need to tell Steve what they’d done last night at the party.

He wasn’t sure if Steve would be proud of him for stepping out of his comfort zone, or pissed because, well, _because._

Steve was already looking a little put out as he stripped off his shirt to wipe away the coffee Clint had spit all over him. Bucky heard something drop behind them but was too transfixed on the trainwreck he was currently part of to turn around and investigate. He knew he was safe here anyway. With JARVIS and the other Avengers, there was no way anyone was sneaking up on them.

“Uh… so, like, Bucky from when you were a kid? That’s… uh… wow… do I wanna ask how _that_ happened?” Clint gestured at Bucky and Bucky flinched. “Cause dang, you don’t look old to me. Smokin’ hot, maybe, but not _old_ – “

“Clint!” Steve said sternly. Bucky flushed hotly.

“What? I’m just sayin’ – “ Clint’s eyes went comically wider. “Oh fuck, I’m sorry. You two a thing? I thought you were into Tony? Y’know…” Clint started edging away. “I think I’ll just shut up now and go back to bed.”

There was a squeak behind Bucky and then the embarrassed, confused scent of Tony hit his nose. It was something metallic that Bucky had never been able to pin down, and lots of coffee and something sweet, too, but he didn’t have time for Tony now, because -

“What? No!” Steve said vehemently.

Bucky echoed it with a shudder, because he wasn’t having this guy think he was a goddamn cheater. “Me and Stevie are only and _ever_ only have been friends. Family, like.”

“Oh, oh that’s good,” Clint said, deflating with relief. “So why so… “ he trailed off.

“I know you’re a free love kind of fella, and you’re a good guy, but I don’t think Bucky needs any more complications right now.”

_Oh, too late for that, Steve_. Bucky almost snorted, amusement finally prickling its way through him. Amusement Clint was obviously feeling as well, his eyes sliding away from Bucky’s as he struggled to keep his face composed.

“So uh.” Tony cleared his throat behind Steve, making Steve jump, eyes going wide, obviously wondering just how much Tony had heard. _Good job Steve, way to use that enhanced Beta nose. Why don’t you just ‘fess up to the fella already?_ “Sooooo, birdbrain, you're alive. I thought that was you I saw last night.”

“Of course I am Tony, how could you doubt that?” Clint said, hurt offense filling the room before it cut off. Wasn’t this guy a spy? How did he manage if he couldn’t mask his emotions – either on his face or his scent?

Tony’s eyebrows went so high they almost disappeared. “Uh, have you seen you? You’re a disaster on a good day, Barton.”

Clint pouted. “Okay, fair, but still, Nat wasn't worried, were you Nat?”

Bucky jumped as Nat slipped past him. Now _that_ was how an operative worked. He’d had no idea she was even in the room!

“You're an idiot, Clint. Only 2 drops in 6 months?” she demanded as she stepped in close and took his coffee. Bucky expected Clint to Alpha up, but he looked sheepish and rubbed the back of his neck, his tall frame slouching downwardly.

“Hey, all my safehouses and contacts were blown,” Clint protested as Nat sipped at his coffee, Clint’s escape effectively blocked off by the counter and the far too many Avengers suddenly around for Bucky’s liking. He started edging backwards, eyes flicking to the door. Maybe _he_ could escape, at least, while everyone was concerned with Clint. “You’re lucky I got you anything.”

She scoffed. “Like your SHIELD contacts and safehouses were the only ones you had set up. You’re not _that_ much of a disaster, and you’re almost as paranoid as I am.”

“Uh, Tony,” Steve said, blushing. “So, umm….”

Bucky took his chance and booked it, sliding right back onto the elevator while Clint endured a lecture and Steve made sappy eyes at Tony and stammered.

Slumping against the elevator wall in relief, Bucky stared at the ceiling for a long moment, debating what to do. Eventually, he cleared his throat.

“Uh, JARVIS?”

“Yes, Sergeant Barnes,” the AI said. Bucky winced, but no amount of asking had managed to get rid of the overly formal address.

“Gym, please,” he asked. Maybe he could work off some nervous energy, or whatever this was running through his body. At least it was likely to be empty right now.

“Of course,” JARVIS said, the elevator starting on its way in such a smooth motion that Bucky didn’t think he’d have felt it if he hadn’t been enhanced. He breathed deeply of the unscented air and slowly, tension in his body uncoiled a little.

It uncoiled further when the elevator opened and it showed him the empty floor. Empty of people, anyway. Scents of previous workouts still lingered, despite the efforts of the air circulators and cleaning staff. Or cleaning robots. Bucky hadn’t seen either and robots seemed more Tony’s style. He stepped out of the elevator and made his way over to the corner of the room with all the weight machines. The floor was divided a little haphazardly, the weight machines being in front and other rooms breaking off of it. There was an Olympic size pool in one area, with lockers, hot tub and sauna, and a range in another. There were multiple sparring rooms and one whole area was blocked off by a keycard and designated for Avengers Training only.

Bucky was fairly certain that one actually spanned several levels, but he hadn’t been able to confirm it. not that he’d tried.

He’d worked his way through several of the super soldier adapted weight machines and was on one of the arm ones – he had to keep the chest and shoulder muscles up just to handle the damn weight of his arm - when he was suddenly aware that he wasn’t alone.

His first clue was the hiss of a door that didn’t need to hiss – he suspected JARVIS did it so he wouldn’t be surprised. Then there was a flicker of scent, pleased surprise, and Bucky flitted his eyes up to the mirror. They landed on Clint Barton, Hawkeye, the Alpha who’d blown him in Tony Starks bathroom only last night and he flushed, his arms faltering.

Clint strode forward. Thank god he was alone. Bucky had known they’d have to talk about this, but he certainly did _not_ want an audience. Least of all, an audience consisting of Steve Rogers and the Look of Disappointment.

“Hey,” Clint said, settling into another machine beside Bucky, their eyes meeting in the mirror.

“Hey,” Bucky said back cautiously.

“So. Skipped out on your own party, eh?” Clint’s eyes were twinkling as he adjusted the weights.

Bucky shrugged. “Not really my thing.”

“Not what the history books say,” Clint said, bracing himself and shifting his grip on the bar over his head.

“Not that person anymore,” Bucky said. “Don’t know if I’ll ever be again.”

“So, when you said dry spell, you _really_ meant dry spell,” Clint drawled.

Bucky grunted, resuming his work out, pushing his arms forward. The two of them were silent for a few moments until Bucky looked at Clint in the mirror again, noticed how his arms bulged as he pulled the bar down and felt himself flush and falter once more.

Clint paused, draping his arms over the bar and holding the weights midway as his hands dangled. He smirked over at Bucky, obviously catching a whiff and Bucky blushed again, at his inability to lock it down. “I’m always up for a round 2. You don’t know how _hard_ it was to leave you last night.”

Bucky resumed the flex of his arms, tried to ignore the other Alpha. “Don’t think that’s wise.”

“Huh? Why not?” Clint didn’t sound or smell hurt, just confused.

“You’re on the team.”

“Are _you?_ ” Clint asked. “Was there a memo? Cause I didn’t get the memo.”

“No, but Steve is. It’d be weird,” Bucky said, resolutely _not_ looking Clint’s way. Now disappointment hit him, and he wasn’t sure if it was all Clint, or if it was him too.

“Oh,” Clint said. “But it doesn’t have to be anything except, y’know, sex. Friends with benefits? It’s not weird or potentially team breaking if there’s no feelings involved, right? And nothing against us being friends…” Clint trailed off and Bucky paused.

Letting the machine push his arms back he picked up his head and met Clint’s gaze in the mirror. It was hopeful but there was a tinge of resignation in his scent, like he knew what Bucky was gonna say before Bucky said it.

If he were honest with himself, he didn’t want to turn Clint down. It was only that he was Hawkeye, and an Avenger, that urged him to say no. But he was also friends with Steve “Fuck the Rules” Rogers.

“Okay,” Bucky said.

Clint’s head shot up so fast he nearly hit his head on the back of his machine and Bucky internally winced in sympathy.

“Wait, seriously?” Clint asked with eager eyes, the tiniest hint of doubt clouding his happy scent.

Bucky nodded, wiping sweaty hair off his face, watching Clint watching him. Even in the mirror, Bucky could see Clint’s eyes darkening.

“On one condition,” Bucky said.

Clint twisted, letting the weights fall with a crash, to face Bucky directly. Bucky swallowed, still watching Clint in the mirror, not ready to _really_ look at him, up close and oh so personal. Not yet.

“Yeah, of course,” Clint said agreeably. Bucky felt something soft towards Clint, for his easy answer, for the honesty in his scent and voice. It was just like the night before, when he didn’t even bat an eye when Bucky told him not to pin him down. “What is it?”

“Let’s not tell the others. _They’d_ make it weird. Steve will wanna sit us down and give us a lecture about lord knows what – probably team dynamics and sexual safety and anything else that strikes his fancy that day – and I could really live without that sort of embarrassment. Or worse, he’ll think this is something more than it is,” Bucky pointed out, unable to miss the brief swirl of disappointment that appeared from Clint before it was gone again.

“Okay, yeah,” Clint said nodding. “I can see wanting to avoid that. Hell, if Steve doesn’t get us, Nat will. And _Tony_ …” Clint shuddered. “I mean, not like he’d be one to lecture, but he’d make jokes, and he’s not as funny as he thinks he is.”

“He kind of is,” Bucky drawled, mostly because Tony was funny, in a way, but also because he wanted to see Clint’s reaction.

Clint gasped and clutched a hand to his heart dramatically and Bucky’s mood lifted, a smile twitching to take over his face. “No! You take that back! I’m the funny one,” he said.

“I wouldn’t know about that,” Bucky said.

“It’s one of my best qualities. Ask anybody. No, wait, don’t ask Tony. Or Nat. _Definitely_ don’t ask Fury,” Clint continued.

Bucky snorted. “I hope its not your _best_ quality,” he said lightly, though his heart was pounding. Despite last nights hookup, the obvious mutual attraction, he still felt out of his depth as he tried to find his way to his old flirting style, or into any, really.

Clint’s eyes narrowed at him. “You’re a troll – wait, your friends with Steve, who am I kidding, of _course_ you’re a troll. Why am I surrounded by people who are trolls? Or think they’re funnier than I am?” he complained.

“Do you ever shut up?” Bucky asked, but he was laughing in a way that didn’t happen often. He was feeling lighter than normal. Clint, by now, had to know who he was. He wasn’t watching him like a ticking time bomb or treating him with kid gloves. He was normal. And he still wanted to get up close and personal with _Bucky_ , of all people.

“Make me,” Clint challenged him with a grin, leaning closer to Bucky, the desire that had been simmering between them flaring up noticeably, Bucky inhaling with a small gasp, followed by a light moan as his pants tightened.

Fuck, Bucky was glad he’d agreed, because he didn’t think he could resist Clint for long, even though he’d already gotten at least a small measure of the man, his willingness to listen when Bucky laid out some boundaries.

If Bucky _had_ said no, he was sure Clint would have dropped it, and he was finding himself real glad he hadn’t said no.

Bucky turned his head away from the mirror, meeting Clint’s blue eyes with his, so close he could see the dusting of freckles across Clint’s cheeks just below them. Clint’s pupils were dilated, glancing down, then up again. And, okay, yeah, it really didn’t take a genius to figure that out. Even someone as rusty as Bucky could pick up that clue.

Their lips brushed together, soft and gentle. Clint’s mouth opened beneath Bucky’s and Bucky groaned, pushing closer to Clint, a hand reaching up to cup the back of Clint’s neck, but remembering at the last second to stay away from his ears, as requested. The kiss turned wet, open and dirty, real fast, Clint settling back into the seat of the machine properly, his hands dragging down Bucky’s sides to grip at his ass and pull him into his lap.

Bucky went willingly, not ready to break the kiss, the scent of arousal curling around them. He moaned again when he rocked down and his throbbing cock met Clint’s.

“Fuck, so hard for me, baby,” Clint muttered, his fingers splayed out over Bucky’s ass, urging him forward and down and sparks lit through him, making him gasp over Clint’s mouth. Bucky rolled his hips and bit at the bottom of his lip before thinking of better things to bite. He caught Clint’s mouth again, pulling at Clint’s bottom lip with his teeth and reveling in the groan it netted him, in the harsh, upward thrust, that slid their cocks together.

“Fuck, me too,” Clint groaned. “Can you feel that?” He pushed upwards with his hips and down with his hands, fingers flexing and kneading through the pants.

“Yeah, but I wanna feel more,” Bucky whispered.

“Oh god, yeah,” Clint said, his eyes going wide. “Yeah, yeah, we can… we can totally – “

They fumbled between them, hurriedly working their pants open and oh God, Clint wasn’t wearing undergarments. Whatever he’d been wearing before had been discarded and Bucky was struck with a sudden thought.

“You hate clothes, don’t ya?” he asked, pushing down his boxer briefs till his cock sprang free, sliding up against Clint’s.

“Clothes are…oooooh… overrated,” Clint panted. “Yeah, that feels… that feels awesome.”

Bucky had to agree as their cocks slid together, slick and hot. Clint’s hands worked their way back to his ass, under his pants and gripping him urgently.

“Go ahead, touch me,” Clint moaned, his hands pushing at Bucky’s pants till they were under the swell of his ass, baring him to the room. He shifted over Clint, rearing back a little to look down into their laps. He bit his lip again at the sight of their cocks rubbing together and he reached out, intent on taking them both in his hand when he registered the shine of it and pulled back. Something dark curled through him, souring the happy, disrupting the thick arousal. He drew back again, metal fingers flexing as he grabbed at his own thigh hard.

He was going to have bruises, but he knew already that they’d be gone in less than a few hours.

Clint stilled, a hand leaving Bucky’s ass to palm at his jaw, to look him in the eyes. “It’s okay,” he said softly. “I’m not afraid of it. You can touch me.”

“I –“ Bucky said, voice cracking.

“Or not, whatever you’re comfortable with, I’ll take,” Clint insisted. “But I swear, it’s okay. I don’t mind it.”

The plates of his arm whirred and settled uneasily as Clint trailed his hand down Bucky’s jaw, his neck, to the junction of where metal met flesh. Clint arched up to press his lips into Bucky’s, even as his fingers continued to drift down the metal plates of Bucky’s arm.

“Careful, they’ll pinch,” Bucky managed to warn Clint before Clint’s mouth covered his again. Clint didn’t pull away at the warning, his hand gliding down, his fingers threading through Bucky’s. Something other than pure desire rushed through Bucky at the touch that he refused to acknowledge or examine.

This didn’t mean anything special.

Hell, they weren’t even friends yet. Or maybe never. It was just sex. Just like back in the day, when he trolled the docks for work – mostly legal – and occasionally found a willing partner or two to relieve some of the stress.

Clint started rocking upward again, slow, small movements, a tantalizing feeling just out of reach. Slowly, need edged its way back in, Bucky’s nose flaring at the sharp uptick of arousal and the answering moan. Hesitantly, he spread his metal fingers, Clint letting go instantly, and he wrapped his left hand around their erections, his other hand slamming back against the machine for balance as they rocked together. Clint’s hand returned to his ass, kneading Bucky’s flesh and urging him faster.

The kiss forgotten, Bucky loomed over Clint, panting, foreheads knocked together, the curtain of his hair falling to cage them in a world of their own making. His hand should have chafed but they were both leaking so much it slicked the way, letting his hand glide smoothly, easily over their cocks.

“Oh god,” Clint whispered. “Fuck, that’s… that’s…” his eyes closed and he whined, fucking up into Bucky’s fist and pulling Bucky down against him. Bucky sped up his hand, licking his lips as white hot desire spiked and he came with a cry, jerking against Clint. Clint came with him, his come shooting impressively as it splashed on them both, mingling with Bucky’s.

They rocked with the aftershocks, Bucky’s hand twisting, going lower to massage their knots and milking the last of it. Clint slumped down bonelessly into the cradle of the weight machine, his hands drawing idle patterns on Bucky’s ass, thumbs occasionally brushing against the crack of it.

Bucky gasped as the thought of actually taking Clint fully, or having Clint take him, crossed his mind and one last spurt of come dribbled out of his cock. Clint laughed lightly as Bucky sagged against him.

“Fuck, yeah,” Clint said. “God, you don’t disappoint.”

“Mmm…” Bucky agreed, wriggling downward, happily. He felt like his mind had melted and there were happy, content scents wrapping around him. Suddenly, all he wanted to do was curl up on top of Clint and sleep the morning away.

“Oh, you’re killin’ me, beautiful,” Clint moaned, shuddering beneath Bucky. “But, much as I don’t wanna move either, baby, your ass is on full display here, and I think you said something last night about _not_ being an exhibitionist.”

“Hmm?” Bucky tried to reboot his brain, pulling back and using his hands on Clint’s chest to push up and balance. He blinked downward. He felt good, limbs lethargic, ready for a nap. What was Clint going on abou –

And then the words hit him and he scrambled backwards, falling on his ass. Clint winced, tucked himself back into his pants but didn’t bother closing them before standing and helping Bucky to his feet.

Bucky stared at Clint as he willingly clasped his hand with Bucky’s, getting sticky come all over him, then Clint stripped his shirt off and turned it inside out, wiping his and Bucky’s hands down and dabbing at their clothes.

“I think that’s presentable enough to make it back to your room to change, especially if JARVIS helps,” Clint said, looking up on the last bit.

Bucky’s eyes stayed glued to Clint’s chest. It was just as gorgeous as the worn shirts had intimated. Even more so, actually.

“Bucky?” Clint asked with husky amusement. “Much as I’d love more of this, if you really want to keep this arrangement quiet…” he trailed off.

Oh, oh yeah. That was… yeah. He grunted, nodded and pushed out a gruff thanks before sorting out his clothes as best as he could. He hoped any new stains would be blamed on working out if he was caught, and then he beelined for the elevator and ducked inside.

His last glimpse of the gym, was Clint cleaning up their mess and a jaunty little wave of farewell.

Bucky swallowed as the doors closed.

He might be in over his head, but Bucky decided for once that… it might be a good thing. He was gonna just let this happen and… see where it took him.

He was allowed to be selfish, for once. His therapist had said so. And he had about 70 years of not being allowed to make up for.

And if he wanted Clint, and Clint wanted him, then dammit, he was going for it.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> When is a little friendly competition at the range more than a competition?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This story is not complete. i am trying to change it so that it is marked incomplete, but in case i fail, here is your warning.  
>  And this chapter ends on a low note for bucky so if you'd like to wait...
> 
> Accidentally filled the Clint Barton birthday bash Bingo square#2: "Awwww, ______, No...."

The next few days were a strange game of cat and mouse, in which both cat and mouse were teamed up for shenanigans right under the dogs’ nose. Clint and Bucky circled each other in the common areas, Bucky’s request to keep it on the down low always on both their minds. Or at least, Bucky assumed it was as much on Clint’s, as it was on his, since Clint was abiding by his wishes.

But they were drawn to each other in ways Bucky wasn’t _used_ to. And when Bucky wasn’t craving Clint’s body against his, when he wasn’t fighting to keep himself from shoving Clint against a wall and kissing that endearingly lopsided smile off his face, he was being encouraged by Steve and the others to get to know the until recently absent member of the Avengers.

It was torture.

It was permission.

If Bucky and Clint disappeared together, Steve smiled knowingly even without _knowing_. It was a riot, actually. Steve kept telling Bucky how proud he was that Bucky was making new friends, and how glad he was that he was friends with Clint _particularly_. Something, something, Battle of New York.

Honestly, Bucky had stopped listening, too busy trying to make sure that Steve didn’t catch the new bruises along his collarbone before they faded and so fucking grateful that Steve’s nose was – enhanced or not – still a Beta’s.

So far, he and Clint hadn’t had much more than time for some enthusiastic necking, a little light groping and a couple of hand jobs - just enough to release some tension, but ramp up the need. Bucky was still stuck in that he couldn’t bring Clint back to his place, because his place was his and _Steve’s_.

And Clint, for whatever reasons, hadn’t invited Bucky back to his. Though, to be completely fair, Bucky wasn’t sure Clint wasn’t in the same position. Maybe he shared with Natasha?

After yet another frustrating day of being too near Clint while not being near _enough,_ Bucky couldn’t sleep. Usually it was bad dreams that kept him awake, but tonight he hadn’t even managed to fall asleep enough to have one. No, it was restlessness that drove him out of bed a few hours after hitting it, and he decided to let off some steam down on the range.

He’d been worried, at the beginning, of the wisdom of continuing to shoot and handle weapons, but doing so was meditative and Steve hadn’t said it was forbidden either.

And the targets weren’t human. They weren’t even _real_. JARVIS used some sort of holo technology or _something_ and he always took great care to never make them look human when Bucky was on the range.

JARVIS was good like that.

Bucky startled when he entered and saw Clint already there, bow in hand, wearing only low slung sweats. His eyes roamed over the naked expanse of Clint’s shoulders, his back. He watched the ripple and play of naked muscle, and his breath _caught._

Desire coiled through him and, across the room, he saw Clint’s mouth quirk up into a grin. Clint released his arrow and knocked another one. Well, if Clint hadn’t heard him come in, he sure as hell had smelled him. Either way was okay by Bucky. Finally, they were alone and he could, at least, look his fill.

Maybe more.

“Hey there, handsome,” Clint said. “Can’t sleep?”

Bucky shrugged. “Got an itch.”

Clint lowered his bow and half twisted to face him. “Is that so? What kind of an itch?”

Bucky let his eyebrows go up, but he didn’t say anything. Clint knew damn well what kind of an itch. Clint chuckled, and went back to shooting, so Bucky finally came into the range the rest of the way, hearing the door woosh closed behind him. He headed for the weapons locker and made a show of picking out a rifle, pretending he didn’t have half an eye on Clint.

From Clint’s grin, he wasn’t fooled in the slightest. Damn. Bucky’s scent – for all that he was trying to keep it in control, and was apparently doing well enough when around the others – was probably giving him away more than just having entered the room.

In this case, not a bad thing, if Clint was on board too. Bucky wasn’t sure exactly what game they were playing but he was determined not to be the first to cave. He set himself up next to Clint with careful precision and settled in to shoot.

The next ten minutes or so were blissfully quiet, aside from the sounds of shooting, the twang of Clint’s arrows, the crack of Bucky’s gun, the rustling of clothes as they moved.

“Damn, you’re _good,_ ” Clint breathed, breaking the comfortable silence. Bucky’s eyes flicked over to Clint, watching the fella loose an arrow and hit the target – without even looking, too busy looking his fill at Bucky.

Bucky’s nose flared with the swirl of lust rising from Clint, scenting his own – roiling just under the surface since he’d entered the range – breaking free and answering Clint’s. He swallowed, getting caught in Clint’s eyes. He didn’t even notice they were leaning closer to each other until their lips touched.

Electricity jolted through Bucky at the soft touch and he pushed closer to deepen the kiss, his head feeling hazy as their scents wrapped around him. He made a sound of disappointment when Clint’s mouth moved away, but sighed when Clint kissed his jaw, sucking lightly on his neck before rolling his head to angle his mouth toward Bucky’s ear, warm breath gently caressing his skin.

“Wanna find out who’s a better shot?” Clint whispered.

Bucky leaned back, staring at Clint in confusion who was grinning madly. “What?” Bucky spluttered.

Clint grinned wider, if that were possible. “Me. You.” He pointed unnecessarily with a loose arrow. “Targets.” Then he leaned in close and nuzzled into Bucky’s neck, Bucky’s knees going weak at the rough scratch of scruff contrasting with soft, plush lips on his skin. “Who’s a better shot when distracted?”

Oh, so _that_ was the game.

“You think I can’t stay on target?” Bucky asked. “What are the rules?”

“Anything goes, JARVIS keeps score,” Clint said, sucking at the underside of Bucky’s jaw.

“And what’s the prize?” Bucky asked, his eyes rolling up a little at the shiver rolling through his body from Clint’s mouth and his delicious, delicious scent.

Bucky needed to get his mouth on him.

“Winner’s choice,” Clint said and Bucky shouldn’t be agreeing to anything so open ended, but it was Clint, and Clint was an Avenger and… Clint was now nibbling and sucking on Bucky’s ear and he didn’t remember that being such a sensitive spot but he shuddered again. “Whaddya say?”

“You’re on,” Bucky gasped out without really processing. He could _feel_ Clint’s grin spreading over his face just before Clint stepped back, leaving Bucky suddenly cold. Shit, what had he just agreed to?

His arm shot out, hand grabbing Clint before he got too far. Clint halted and waited him out. “The clothes stay on.” Bucky’s eyes flickered over Clint’s bare chest. “What’s left of them. I won’t fuck where anyone can walk in on us.”

Never mind that they’d been doing just that for almost a week now. He was tired of ‘back alley quickies’ or, in this case, counting on JARVIS to keep people out of the room they were in, or finding a random closet.

“It’s the middle of the night _and_ JARVIS wouldn’t let anybody walk in on us,” Clint pointed out.

Bucky shook his head. “It’s too dangerous. They’re gonna catch on,” Bucky said. “We keep going like this, it just gives them more opportunities to catch us when we slip up. They’re not dumb. It’s a risk…”

“Hmm… I don’t mind taking risks, but if it makes you more comfortable, than you got it, handsome,” Clint said, smirking. “And if you’re ready, let the game begin. JARVIS clear the board, count the points. We take turns. First missed shot, we switch.”

“Who starts?”

Clint held out a closed fist and jiggled it. Bucky snorted but held out his own. This game, he remembered. After a three count and a familiar schoolyard chant Bucky hadn’t heard in years, Bucky crushed Clint’s scissors and smirked up at him.

“Awwww, scissors, no….” Clint pouted. It was really too adorable. Far too adorable for the tall, half naked Alpha.

“Face it, sweetheart,” Bucky said, sending Clint his flirtiest wink. “I’m gonna win. Then I’m gonna have my way with you.”

Clint snorted, but didn’t object, showing just how on board with the plan he was. He did roll his eyes though. “Yeah, but I’m going to win and then it’ll be _me_ having my way with _you_.”

“You’d like to think that, wouldn’t you sweetheart?” Bucky drawled, leaning in to whisper. “I set records _long_ before I was the Winter Soldier.”

Whirling, Bucky took aim, letting off shot after shot in rapid succession with barely a thought needed. Taken off guard, Clint was slower to react than Bucky had even _hoped_ for and Bucky knew his triumphant grin was perhaps a little mad.

If Steve were here, he might be a bit concerned. But he wasn’t, so Bucky didn’t care. Clint had challenged him, and Bucky was going to win and tell Clint _exactly_ what he wanted.

He had a feeling it wouldn’t take much persuasion to get Clint on board considering Clint also had plans. He loved it when he and a hook up were on the same page. Win win.

Bucky resolutely didn’t think about how Clint was different than any other hookup he’d ever had, back in the day. At least, that he could remember. For one, Bucky didn’t think he’d ever had the same one twice, for another, he actually was enjoying being around Clint and getting to know him as a person.

This was dangerous ground he was treading and Bucky might want to think about getting out before it was too late.

And then Clint’s scent hit him, deep and musky and so turned on that it was like Bucky had smacked straight into a wall. His hands faltered for a split second and Clint snapped out of his daze, advancing around Bucky. Clint trailed his hand over Bucky’s shoulders, nudged up his neck into his loose flowing hair – god _damn_ it _,_ he shoulda tied it up – and then Clint’s thumb dug in to the knot there Bucky hadn’t even realized he’d had and he groaned.

He faltered again, eyes flickering to close shut but Bucky fought it back, steadied his rifle and continued to shoot, though at a much slower, deliberately careful pace, now. He could feel the tease of Clint’s breath along his neck, almost but not quite touching, the maddening presence of Clint’s body a hairsbreadth from Bucky’s and all Bucky wanted to _do_ was press back into the heat of it, feel Clint’s cock against his ass.

Inside him.

His breathing jolted at the sudden rush of heat pooling low, his cock going from half hard to fully, achingly hard between one breath and the next. He pulled in a shaky breath, his trembling finger moving and - 

“You missed,” Clint whispered, kissing Bucky’s neck. “My turn. Let me show you how it’s done.”

Bucky blinked at the target even as Clint stepped back and away. Jesus. Clint had barely touched him. How the fuck had he missed?

Lowering his weapon, he set it carefully aside, following Clint as he picked up his bow, a quiver already latched to his hip. Bucky’s whole body was thrumming with need, a need he would think was absolutely one sided if he didn’t see Clint’s nostrils flare, if the scent around them hadn’t thickened.

He moved in closer, matching Clint’s stance as he stood behind Clint then pressing up against him completely, careful not to actually impeded his arms. From this angle, he could see the scars behind Clint’s ears and Bucky steered away from them, remembering Clint’s one request. Instead, he takes advantage of the shirt free shoulders and leaves gentle, open mouthed kisses along the bare skin, soft enough not to jar Clint’s arms.

With several days of handjobs and more between them, Bucky has no problem touching Clint, grasping his hips and sliding his hands forward and around the front, down Clint’s sides and the tops of his thighs. Bucky let his hands slide up and down a few times, close but not quite touching Clint’s cock.

The twang and thunk of Clint’s arrows remained steady, even as he whined under Bucky’s hands and oh, Bucky wanted to hear more of that. His head thunked between Clint’s shoulder blades as he drew in a steadying breath.

Jesus, was he torturing himself or Clint?

His hands kneaded Clint’s thighs, then gripped hard, drawing Clint back slowly and gently till Clint’s ass met Bucky’s hard cock. Bucky groaned at the contact and Clint gasped but his hands didn’t falter like Bucky’s had.

Time to up the stakes.

Reaching a little further on another upstroke of his hands, Bucky cupped Clint’s erection through the sweats, the material doing little to hide the heat of it, or how hard Clint was. Encouraged, Bucky growled lowly,

“Y'know, sweetheart, we've had sex a few times, and I still haven't seen your ass.”

It was the plain truth, and suddenly, Bucky wanted nothing more than to rectify that, this game be damned.

Clint inhaled a soft gasp then groaned, pushing up into Bucky’s hand and slumping against his body. Bucky grunted at the sudden weight of a boneless alpha, but then there was a twang and his eyes shot up to see the arrow sitting dead center.

Bucky stared in disbelief.

“You'll have to do better than that,” Clint said, but it was breathless and Bucky could see right through him.

“Enough, I concede,” Bucky growled, grinding against Clint’s ass. “You win. Fuck…” he groaned as Clint pushed back against him eagerly and Bucky’s hand worked Clint’s cock. Clint’s hips arched up and Bucky pressed him back down into his own cock, relishing in the press of Clint against him. “Games over, you can put the bow down.” He kissed down Clint’s neck, listening to pretty little noises Clint was making. “Maybe we can move this somewhere else, somewhere more appropriate.”

“Fuck, Bucky, I thought it was _my_ prize,” Clint said, groaning.

“You got any objection to the idea?” Bucky countered.

“Hell no,” Clint agreed. “Just, let’s, yeah, let’s get these away.”

Reluctantly, Bucky set him free and stepped away so Clint could do just that, and Bucky took the time to compose himself, pick up his own discarded weapon and put it properly away. With the space between them, Bucky’s head cleared a little and evidently, so did Clint’s.

Clint cleared his throat. “Man, I would have thought you'd be more competitive than this, what with being Steve’s best friend.”

Bucky shrugged, sliding the rifle back where it belonged. “I was always more of a lover than a fighter. Fighting was Stevie’s thing.”

“Of course, it was,” Clint huffed out with a little chuckle. His bow was placed carefully on it’s hooks, the quiver right beside it and Clint turned to look at Bucky, on arm reaching behind himself to rub the back of his neck. “Before we do anything, you can say no to anything I ask, you know that, right?”

“Already told you what I don’t like, so unless you plan to ignore that, I ain’t changin’ my mind,” Bucky drawled. “Tell me what you want.”

“You’re nice and direct,” Clint said. “Damn, I like that.” He lost the puppy dog look and his eyes turned smoldering, scratching a hand down over Bucky’s shirt. “How do you feel about fuckin’ me?”

Oh, that was… that was pretty much in line with where Bucky’s mind had already gone and he groaned. There was a sharp inhale from Clint.

“Oh, oh you like that a lot don’t you? I can _smell_ how much you want that. If you could slick, you’d be drippin’ for me wouldn’t ya?” Clint asked, his voice rough with need.

“’m already drippin’ sweetheart,” Bucky countered, trying to hold himself together. If he was going to fuck Clint, he’d rather _not_ do it in the range. “Now, where’ve you got in mind?”

Clint’s eyes were going to burn right through, Bucky was sure. The seconds ticked by far too slowly as Clint seemed to take forever to shake himself, twist his hand in Bucky’s shirt and yank him forward into a bruising kiss.

“How ‘bout my place?” Clint asked, then let go and walked away without waiting for an answer. He paused at the door as it wooshed open and he gave Bucky a questioning eye quirk. Bucky hurried to move, following after Clint through the corridors of the tower and valiantly keeping his hands to himself in the elevator as they moved between levels.

At fucking last, they reached Clint’s floor.

As soon as Bucky shut the door behind him, Clint was shucking off the sweats and revealing – surprise, surprise – nothing on under them. Bucky watched Clint as he easily swept up the pants into a kick towards a chair. It landed, of course, precise on its mark just like the marksman he was. But Bucky found himself entranced by the sight of that glorious ass – his first, good view of it since this… thing… they’d started.

Bucky tried to insert the old charming swagger into his walk as he stalked towards Clint and crowded Clint into the wall, pinning him against it with the length of his body. Clint didn’t fight it. His back arched away from the wall, hips thrusting against Bucky’s as Bucky closed in for a kiss.

Bucky let his hands roam over the expanse of skin laid out before him. Jesus fuck, he wanted to take his time here, but he wasn’t sure he could hold off that long. His hands moved restlessly over Clint’s chest and sides, occasionally stopping to play with a nipple while his tongue delved deeper into Clint’s mouth. Clint rocked against him, riding Bucky’s thigh with a swallowed whimper.

“Too may clothes,” Clint managed between kisses, his fingers pulling at Bucky’s shirt. Bucky pulled away long enough to yank it off and toss it behind him and then he stuttered, freezing as the full brunt of what he was doing, the view he was giving Clint, slammed into him.

For a second, he’d forgotten the arm, the scarring, how hideous it must look to someone as gorgeous as Clint. He flinched, waiting for the backlash.

“Fuck, your gorgeous,” Clint muttered, hands tracing up Bucky’s abs, leaning in for another kiss. If he was phased by the arm or the scarring, Bucky couldn’t tell. Clint’s scent held no lie or pretense, just desire. Bucky relaxed little by little as Clint kissed his way down his neck, sucking hard – the only way Bucky would carry the love bites for any amount of time as they’d discovered earlier in the week. With each pass, the tension slowly bled away from Bucky, but he was still feeling unsettled.

“Turn around,” Bucky said gruffly, holding his breath as he waited for Clint to comply.

And he did. So fucking beautifully. Clint turned face first, hands slapping against the wall, ass pushed out. Bucky watched Clint spread his legs easily and eagerly, a breathy little groan escaping him. “C’mon, baby, take what you want.”

Im Fuck, he’d made Clint turn around to get his eyes off him, but now…

Bucky couldn’t take his eyes off Clint’s ass, how round and firm - his hands came down and grasped Clint’s butt and Clint groaned. Bucky kneaded the mounds of flesh, spreading the cheeks to catch a glimpse of Clint’s hole and groaned.

He fell to his knees with a painful thud he paid no mind to and rubbed his face along Clint’s ass. Clint gasped at the roughness of Bucky’s stubble and Bucky let his face drag slowly down along Clint’s crack. Clint shuddered beneath him and Bucky pressed wet kisses along the smooth flesh to either side, occasionally giving Clint a gentle nip.

Clint whined. “You’re a god damn tease, Barnes! How come the history books never mentioned that?”

“History books leave out all the good stuff,” Bucky said absently, before licking around the edges of Clint’s hole and making him gasp. He continued to tease Clint with his tongue, feeling Clint flutter beneath him. His hands constantly moved over Clint’s ass, enjoying the push and pull of Clint in his grip, enjoying the sounds Clint made as Bucky slowly pushed his tongue into his ass.

Their scents were mixed heavily now, and it’s a heady thing, leaving Bucky lightheaded with the mixture of their natural aromas and the strong evidence of desire coming off _both_ of them, ramping up with each swipe of his tongue, every groan Clint made. Fuck, it was gonna take hours to air this room out. Anyone coming in here would know what they’d been up to, even with an unenhanced Beta nose.

It didn’t take long before Clint was pushing back into Bucky’s mouth, trying to take more of him. Bucky eased back and Clint let out a despairing whine. He let his thumb circle Clint’s hole, dipping the tip just inside of Clint, sliding easily through Bucky’s saliva and giving the rim a light, tugging drag before repeating the movement.

“Easy, sweetheart. You got lube or slick?” Clint didn’t answer, and Bucky stilled his thumb. “Clint,” he pushed, giving Clint’s ass a strong squeeze to get his attention, careful not to hurt him since it was his left hand.

“Uh…”

“Lube or slick? Don’t wanna hurt ya,” Bucky said gently, rubbing his ass in apology for the squeeze.

“Oh! Uh, both, don’t matter. Think there’s some in that table there,” Clint said, nodding towards a little table beside the chair Clint had so casually kicked his sweats onto.

“Hmm… do this often?” Bucky asked, trying not to feel disappointed in that. He thought he could reach the table without having to actually stand up. He leaned over, letting go of Clint to grasp the drawer and open it, reaching for the tube of lube he found.

“Sometimes. Not in a while though.” Clint shrugged. “I like sex, but it’s harder to come by honestly when you’re an Avenger.”

Bucky opened the tube with a hum and spread the lube on his fingers liberally, then turned back to Clint, spreading his cheeks once more. He teased Clint’s hole again, enjoying the gasp he garnered when he spread the lube around Clint’s rim and then delicately slipped one finger inside him. Clint jerked and sighed, pushing back into Bucky’s hand.

“That feels _great_ ,” he said. “Keep going. More, I can take more.”

“Patience,” Bucky counseled, but he knew he was going to have to hurry. His cock was hard and heavy, straining against his pants. And watching Clint eagerly writhing under his fingers while having every fresh wave of Clint’s desire hitting his nose was ramping up Bucky’s own till he felt like he would explode.

He added a second finger easily, watching them slide in and out of Clint’s ass, watching how desperately Clint wanted it as he babbled and begged for more. Slowly, Bucky stood, grasping his cock through his pajamas and he groaned at the touch. He needed _more_.

Hurriedly, he slipped a third finger inside of Clint, stretching as carefully and quickly as he could, making sure to prod at that one spot he knew could make a man fall apart. Clint was no exception, jerking against Bucky’s touch, going to his tiptoes with a keening, gasping cry.

Bucky’s head fell between Clint’s shoulder blades for the second time that day, watching his fingers moving between them, getting Clint ready for him.

“Beautiful,” he muttered. “Fuck, you’re fucking gorgeous and –“ He shifted his fingers again, and Clint shuddered and made the same sound. “Jesus, so responsive. Fuck, I need to… I need to…”

Fumbling, Bucky withdrew his fingers and pushed at his pants, letting them drop with his boxers to his ankles, kicking them off absently and taking himself in hand, pumping his cock a few times and spreading dripping precome over his length then fumbling for the tube of lube, spreading it over his cock. “I need… Jesus, are you – “

“I’m ready, c’mon, fuck me,” Clint babbled. “Right here, right now, do it!”

Groaning, Bucky pushed in, slowly, so fucking slowly, watching the head of his cock press against Clint’s ass, feeling the slow give of Clint’s rim as he pressed inside. His hands gripped Clint’s hips, holding them both steady as he eased back and in again, little by little. Even with all that prep, Clint was still tight and it felt good around Bucky’s cock. Still, he worried it hadn’t been quite enough –

“Jesus, you feel so good,” Bucky groaned. “Are _you_ good?”

“So good, baby, keep going,” Clint said, a hand reaching back to pull at Bucky, urging him in deeper, faster.

“Fuck,” Bucky said with a choked off breath. “Fuck!” He couldn’t hold back anymore, not with Clint’s need tickling his nose, pulling at his skin, welcoming Bucky inside of him and he plunged in the rest of the way, hard and fast, till they were held flush together. Clint let out a shout, his grip on Bucky tightening and Bucky groaned, pulling out and slamming back inside. He thrust in a few more times, surrounded by Clint’s heat and scent. Clint’s words had devolved to formless sounds of pleasure and suddenly, even though Bucky had seen it before, he needed to see Clint come on his cock.

He pulled out, spun Clint around and pushed him further against the wall, slid his hands down his sweaty sides and grasped his thighs, tugging up and Clint went, back braced against the wall and his legs and arms wrapping around Bucky. Bucky lined them up and slid back inside, both of them letting out a long, mutual groan.

Like this, Clint was a little lower, a little easier to reach and Bucky claimed his lips as he pounded into Clint. Clint’s fingers were scratching at Bucky’s back and his feet were urging Bucky on, his hips rolling down to meet each of Bucky’s upwards thrusts.

Their lips moved wetly against each other, open mouthed kisses filled with panting groans and short, sharp cries of pleasure. Bucky’s left hand slammed into the wall and his right grasped Clint’s ass as they came together again and again, Clint clenching around Bucky’s cock and his own rubbing against Bucky’s stomach, hot, hard and _leaking_.

“Gonna give me that knot, baby?” he gasped against Bucky’s lips and that… that was enough for Bucky. Bucky’s head hit Clint’s shoulder and he thrust up, thrust deep, his knot swelling and catching, then finally locking into place as Clint came all over Bucky’s front, shuddering in Bucky’s grasp. “Nnnngh, oh fuck, yeah, that’s… that’s…. Nggggh!”

Bucky spilled inside him seconds later as Clint’s ass spasmed around him, the two of them rocking through their mutual aftershocks. Clint’s head fell against the wall, gasping and Bucky collapsed against him, pinning him even more thoroughly to the wall.

Eventually, Clint’s legs slipped down and the shift of their bodies tugged on Bucky’s knot. He groaned as the movement milked more out of him. Breathing hard, Bucky’s knees wanted to buckle, but something held him up. He thought it was Clint until Clint started laughing.

“Holy fuck, Bucky! Fuck, you put your fist through my damn wall! Now _that’s_ a ringing endorsement!”

Bucky pulled enough away to stare at the wall in shock. He could feel the blood draining out of his face. “This ain’t funny,” he snarled.

“It kinda is,” Clint said, his eyebrows furrowing. “I’m really not that bothered by it. So why are you?”

And he wasn’t, Bucky could tell. Mirth and growing confusion was starting to mingle with the scent of sex but even if it didn’t disturb Clint, _Bucky_ was unnerved by the loss of control.

What if instead of punching the wall, he’d been holding Clint? He remembered squeezing Clint’s ass, remembered how hard he’d gripped Clint’s hips. Jesus. He could have _crushed_ the other fella!

His knot slipped free and Bucky stumbled back, tripping over the clothes at his feet. Clint reached out for him as Bucky backed away and Bucky shook his head. With shaking hands, he grabbed his clothes and tried to pull them on, breathing hard.

“Bucky, breathe,” Clint said. His voice was calm but his scent was worried and tinged with panic. Or maybe that was Bucky’s own panic. “Talk to me. What’s wrong?”

Bucky shook his head. “I coulda hurt you. I can’t… I –“

“But you didn’t,” Clint insisted, stepping closer to Bucky.

Shaking his head, Bucky took the cowards way out –

He bolted.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Things might not be as hopeless as Bucky thinks...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> No squares this time, and it's a little shorter than the other chapters, but i looooove how this came out.

Bucky wasn’t sure if he was relieved or disappointed when Clint didn’t chase after him, but either way, he rushed back to his floor and to his room as fast as he could, panic, fear and shame filling him.

He closed his bedroom door and locked it, then leaned against it breathing hard. He slid down the door and buried his face in his hands.

Jesus.

He could have _killed_ Clint.

Pulling his hands away from his face, he stared at them - one metal, one flesh. Even the flesh one was dangerous, enhanced as he was, but the metal one? HYDRA had done tests to see just how strong it was. Bucky knew _exactly_ how badly he could have hurt Clint and killed was definitely not only possible –

It would have been way too fucking easy.

And then he’d have been the recovering assassin who’d killed a goddamned Avenger. There would be no coming back from that.

After a while, Bucky forced himself up and towards his bathroom, grateful that Stark had built en suites for every bedroom. He needed to get the scent of sex and Clint off him. Needed to clean away the evidence. His skin crawled and his mind whirled and he wanted to puke every time he saw again in his minds eye, the vision of his hand lodged into the wall beside Clint’s head.

He turned the water on scorching hot, the better to scour everything off himself and lingered under the spray, grateful that the hot water in the tower _never_ ran out.

When he finally stepped out, dawn was breaking through the windows and he sighed, knowing he couldn’t hide in his rooms indefinitely, as much as he wanted to. Especially if he didn’t want Steve or anyone else getting suspicious.

The next few weeks were pretty uneventful, all told. Bucky still woke in the night, as he often did, only now it was only partially nightmares because the rest were wet dreams of _Clint._ Waking hard and aching, Bucky cursed himself as he reached into his boxer briefs and pulled at his cock, closing his eyes and remembering how _right_ it had felt –

He came in his fist and all over himself, feeling shame over his lack of self-control.

That didn’t stop it from becoming a near nightly occurrence. He couldn’t tell if it was helping him stay resolute when he saw Clint in the common spaces, or if it was drawing it out. either way, each time he saw Clint, Bucky felt a longing he hadn’t felt in a damn long time.

So Bucky avoided Clint and after one, disastrous attempt to talk to Bucky –

_“Are you seriously going to do this?” Clint hissed at Bucky after pulling him into a stairwell. Bucky tore himself out of Clint’s grip with a growl and Clint immediately raised his hands and backed up a step. In the enclosed space, Bucky could smell Clint and it tugged at him._

_He resisted._

_It took a herculean effort, but he resisted. This was for Clint’s own good._

_“You’re just going to run away after one small incident? You’re not even going to discuss this with me, you’re just going to decide for both of us what we’re doing?”_

_Bucky crowded Clint against the wall, attempting to push his point home as he growled, “And when I break something, or crush you because of my arm, does that mean I don’t have to feel responsible for it because you decided for both of us to take those risks?”_

_“We can mitigate those risks,” Clint said, not even showing the slightest concern about Bucky caging him in._

_“Yeah? How?” Bucky snarled the question with desperation but Clint’s mouth opened and shut, obviously just as confounded as Bucky. “Exactly.”_

_“Hey, you haven’t exactly given me time to think about it –“_

_“There’s nothing to think about, Clint,” Bucky snapped, backing away. “Short of ripping my arm off – an experience I’d rather not relive, thank you – there’s not anything we can do. I can’t do this. I can’t hurt more people, especially people I –“ Bucky cut himself off before he could say anything traitorous. They barely knew each other, after all. There was no room for feelings to have developed already._

_Exasperation and sadness overpowered the general scent of Clint and Bucky both mourned its loss, and felt regret at having been responsible for the shift._

_“Fine. But just because we’re not fucking doesn’t mean we can’t still be in the same fucking room as each other. You weren’t comfortable, we stopped. I won’t press you again. But you change your mind and actually decide you want to talk about this?” Clint gestured between them. “I’ll be here.”_

After that, Clint left Bucky alone.

Everything was back to the status quo from before Clint had returned to the tower, except that now Clint _was_ here and Bucky knew intimately how he’d taste on his tongue - his skin, his lips, his most intimate places. Bucky could remember how Clint felt under his fingers, both flesh and metal, how Clint felt pressed up against him in all the right places, the weight of Clint’s cock in Bucky’s hand and how tight Clint had been around his dick. He knew how the smell of Clint – both aroused and not – drove him insane and the sounds he made when Bucky played his fingers and lips over him, when he stroked _just_ right, when he thrust deep into –

“Is something wrong, Buck?” Steve dropped onto the couch beside Bucky and Bucky snapped back to awareness, only realizing then that he was staring at Clint from across the room as he laughed at something that Nat said.

That wasn’t a spark of jealousy flaring in his chest. It wasn’t. Clint wasn’t his. Clint _couldn’t_ be his, because he’d put a stop to that himself. Because it was safer that way.

“Fine, Stevie,” Bucky said, tearing his eyes away from Clint, but trying not to be so abrupt and obvious about it when he did. He didn’t think Steve bought it.

“What’s going on with you two? I thought you were getting on.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about. I don’t have a problem with anyone.” It wasn’t a lie. The only person Bucky had a problem with was himself.

“Don’t play dumb,” Steve said, rolling his eyes. “You and Clint. Of everyone, I thought you two would get on like a house on fire. You have so much in common.”

“The sniper thing?” Bucky asked. “’Fraid to break it to you, Stevie, but sometimes a single thing isn’t enough common ground.” It would have been, if Clint and Bucky hadn’t already hit it off, but he didn’t need to tell Steve about that.

“Other things too, jerk,” Steve said, sighing. “You two have both been through a lot. I thought having someone around who might understand could help you.”

“Understand what?” Bucky asked, eyes narrowing at Steve.

Steve blinked at him in surprise. “Uh… I’m suddenly not sure I should say. If you two haven’t discussed it at all, then it’s not my business.”

“Mines all over the internet, so it seems like he’d already know mine.”

“Look, just, talk to him sometime. Give him a chance.” Steve rethought his words. “Or a second chance, I guess. I really do think you’d get on, be good friends, and maybe just… be good for each other.”

Clint had been _real_ good for Bucky when he –

Bucky shook his head sharply to dispel the thought and Steve took it as denial and sighed. “Fine, I can’t force you two to be friends. I’d just hoped…” he trailed off and Bucky felt a tower of guilt flood him, but there was no way he could tell Steve the truth at this point.

He didn’t want to bear Steve’s disappointed look when Bucky told him that him and Clint had been fucking – and hiding it. Or that Bucky had almost hurt Clint.

He didn’t want Steve to be torn between his team and his old life. Bucky didn’t matter, in the grand scheme of things, but Steve and the team – they did good. Bucky didn’t want to get in the way of that, didn’t want to make things awkward.

He was glad, then, that he and Clint had decided to hide what they were doing while it lasted.

Steve gave up, but Bucky made an effort to at least _talk_ to Clint after that.

It only made things harder. Because Clint was genuinely good, and fun, and so full of life that… Bucky almost couldn’t stand it somedays, because he was denying himself the ability to get any closer than this.

Surprisingly, it was Tony who approached him next. Or, well, approached was the wrong word for it, when Tony had Bucky at his mercy in the workshop, the guts of his arm open and on display while Tony tinkered with it.

“So… that thing you and Clint had going – over already?”

Bucky jerked back.

Tony smacked the back of his head.

“Don’t _move_ when I’m poking around in your arm unless you want me to royally fuck you over.” Looking at him slyly, Tony continued, “Though I think that’s what you want _Clint_ to be doing.”

Bucky could only stare at Tony with wide eyes, any possibility of speech so far gone out of his head he couldn’t form words. He could hear the plates in his arm shifting, and the gears whirring louder than normal with parts of his arm open. Tony looked over him critically.

“Ah, hit a nerve, have I?” he murmured. “Look, I’ve got a nose, okay? And unlike Steve, I know how to use it. And the two of you have been circling around each other and pining for weeks – which is odd, considering that before that, you were sneaking around at every opportunity and smelling of sex every time you reappeared.”

“Steve –“ Bucky croaked.

“Is fucking clueless and no, I haven’t filled him in. I’m not _that_ much of a dick,” Tony said. “So what’s the problem?”

Bucky’s fingers twitched and his arm went haywire, prompting Tony to roll back and away, nose twitching.

“Whoa,” Tony said. “I’ve _really_ hit a nerve, haven’t I?”

“Me and Clint – it’s just not a good idea, okay?” Bucky said, looking away from Tony.

“Why?” Tony asked in his usual blunt manner. Normally, Bucky appreciated that, but today, he wasn’t so sure. He didn’t _want_ to talk about this but Tony literally had him at his mercy. “Hey, easy there, Buckaroo. I can smell the distress on you. Look, whatever’s going on, you need an ear and for whatever reason, it can’t be Cap. Not gonna be Nat either, I’m guessin’. Why don’t you try me and see if we can come up with something?”

Bucky weighed Tony’s words, but he was right. This was eating away at him, it was untenable, and who better to understand why Bucky _couldn’t_ then the son of one of his own victims?

“I almost hurt him,” Bucky whispered in shame, hanging his head. “I could, so easily.” His fingers twitched again, drawing his eyes to the open innards of his arm, at the culprit of his current problems. “I could lose control, get so lost that I could do the unthinkable.”

“Huh,” Tony said. “As a reason, I didn’t expect that. Thought maybe Clint’s smart mouth put you off or his uh, penchant for one night stands before you came along.”

“You gotta see I’m right, don’t you?” Bucky shook his head. “I can’t risk it –“

“One, Clint’s a big boy _and_ an Avenger. He can take care of himself _and_ make his own decisions. Two…” Tony picked up one of the incredibly small screwdrivers and did something to Bucky’s arm. “Try that.”

Bucky frowned at Tony and his abrupt change of topic and flexed his fingers. It was instinct, the mind and arm integrated so flawlessly that Bucky never _truly_ thought about any of it – until Clint.

His fingers barely moved. Looking up at Tony in alarm, he found Tony grinning, twirling the tiny screwdriver triumphantly. “Go on, keep going. Usual test movements. Wanna make sure you still have your entire range of motion and that it’s _not_ going to pull your arm out of its socket.”

“What’d you do?”

“Turned the power down.”

Bucky lifted his arm. It was slower, but no heavier than normal, at least. Tony handed him a stress ball, all blue with red stripes and a white star. Of course. Tony’s crush on Steve could be seen from space.

“Squeeze that as hard as you can. I wanna see if you can make it pop.”

Snorting, Bucky said, “You already know I can.” He squeezed the ball. It squished softly between his fingers but didn’t pop. “What?”

“I figured, HYDRA wouldn’t have given you something like that, without a way to make it non-lethal, for their own safety, if nothing else,” Tony explained. “As it stands, your arm is way overpowered for everyday life. Even with your enhancements, it’s stronger. You’re worried. Justifiably so. But what if we could make it so you could turn it on and off yourself?”

Bucky blinked at him, hardly daring to breathe, to hope. “Really?”

That there was possibly a solution to his problem right here –

“Not saying it won’t take some time. We don’t want it to be something anyone can come along and accidentally bump, but yeah, and then you and Clint can go bang like bunnies,” Tony said. An embarrassed, but joyous and grateful smile spread over Bucky’s face, going so wide it almost hurt his cheeks. Tony’s eyes went wide. “Oh god, stop looking at me like that. You’re making me uncomfortable.”

“Thank you, Tony,” Bucky said.

Tony waved it off. “Save the thanks for later, when we can actually put it under your control. In the meantime – on or off?”

Bucky took a long moment to think about that. He wasn’t sure how disconcerting it might be to suddenly lose most of the strength in that arm, but one thing he knew – like when he first got fitted for it, he’d have to relearn how to use it in this state and he couldn’t do that if he had Tony turn it back on.

At least this time, it’d be by his choice and at his pace.

“Off,” he finally decided.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Now that his existential crisis was - maybe - solved, Bucky was finding he had no idea how to move _forward._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Winterhawk Bingo - Square - Insecurity
> 
> So I'm working on 2 big bangs (ones in Beta, the other is almost finished) and 2 crossover fics that turned bigger than I expected to fill a couple bingo squares and the current reverse prompt, but I'm also working to finish this and a couple other posted things before I start posting anything else that isn't a oneshot or already finished. 
> 
> It's just... a little slow going right now (i'm sorry!) because I'm finding that my work schedule is fucking with my productivity (and it's changing AGAIN) and I'm having a harder and harder time getting in the mindset to write smut (which is kinda important to this fic). So, I'm sorry for the wait between chapters.
> 
> hope you enjoy! Not beta'd and I still have a broken Shift Key. I'm off to bed so I can get ready for a 12 hours shift where everything is very likely to be already behind, and where I'm training a new person. wish me luck!

Turned out that _having_ a possible solution didn't mean Bucky was any closer to Clint than he was before. How did you broach a subject like that? _Hey, Tony turned off my arm, wanna fuck and make up for lost time?_ Bucky don't even know if Clint was still interested or not -

Okay, that was a lie. Bucky could smell it every time they were in same _room_ together. But something had changed and he wasn’t sure what. Just saying it like that felt so…. cold and he didn’t understand why. They weren’t in a relationship anyway. They were just fuck buddies. Really, really compatible fuck buddies. No feelings involved. It was _supposed_ to be cold. Or, well, hot, cause it was. Smelling Clint, seeing him, hearing him – all of it, all of _Clint,_ made Bucky run hot under the collar.

Still, it didn’t mean anything. It was just a bit of fun and Clint had been mad because Bucky had cut him off, right? Surely he’d moved on by now?

And Bucky wasn’t going to examine the fact that the very _idea_ of Clint moving on to someone else was making his stomach twist in the most unpleasant ways.

It didn’t mean anything, so it shouldn’t be a problem to walk up to Clint and say _, Hey, I figured out my shit, let’s have some fun._

So why was it?

He couldn’t have possibly developed _feelings,_ right? Bucky was still a mess. There was no way he could handle feelings right now.

Guilt. He was just feeling guilty. That was all. He’d have to apologize to Clint for the way he’d behaved. Because that was it, that was all it could be. There wasn’t anything more.

* * *

It still took Bucky several weeks to gather the courage to speak to Clint. It wasn’t that he avoided Clint in that time. No, actually, things were going well, in that department. Clint had been surprised the first time Bucky had joined him to watch some stupid dog show, but had quickly gotten over it. Clint had then regaled Bucky with all the stuff he’d missed before smacking himself on the head and asking JARVIS to play the show from the beginning.

That was just the beginning. Bucky started making sure he’d be in the common room, the coffee machine started before Clint could shuffle in. That would be the perfect time to apologize – only he didn’t. Instead, Clint had conned him into leaving the tower and checking out a nearby animal rescue.

Before he could have a panic attack about being out in the open, in public, Bucky found himself sat on the floor with a literal litter of kittens climbing all over him while Clint made it his mission to say hello to every dog in the joint.

The more time passed, the more paradoxically relaxed and wound up Bucky got.

It was as if sitting down to watch Dog Cops with Clint had opened a floodgate. Clint didn’t act weird around him, but neither did he bring up the sex thing again. He respected Bucky’s boundaries about that, but now that Bucky had made an overture, of sorts, Clint was always _there._

If Bucky didn’t know better, he’d think Clint was courting him, except Alpha’s didn’t court Alphas.

Did they?

Not that it mattered, because Bucky wasn’t sweet on Clint. That’s just not what this was.

But every day was something. Tuesday had been a baking day, the two of them working together seamlessly (or almost seamlessly – Bucky might have tripped over his own two feet when Clint had stretched up to get the flour down off the highest shelf). The excuse had been cookies for Nat’s birthday, but what Bucky didn’t understand was why Clint had asked _him_ of all people to help.

Not that he’d said no, obviously.

Wednesday had found Clint strumming a guitar and Bucky standing transfixed as he listened. Then Clint had flashed him a smirk and played a few more songs before setting the guitar aside and asking JARVIS for some music so he and Bucky could dance.

“Gotta keep from getting rusty,” Clint said when Bucky had made to protest, feeling hot in the cheeks, remembering that first night _all_ too clearly.

Thursday, Clint had brought Bucky to the roof and showed him the secret hideout he’d made up there – complete with pillows and blankets of all sorts and even a stuffed animal or two.

Bucky was not ashamed to say he’d taken a liking to the oldest one there, a purple elephant with a flattened face that showed evidence of having had surgery in several places including the mismatched print fabric on it’s ears and tummy. Now when a day was overwhelming, or when he couldn’t sleep at night, Bucky found himself in Clint’s hideout, wrapped in blankets filled with Clint’s scent and snuggling that stupid elephant.

(Daisy wasn’t stupid. She had an old-fashioned music box inside her that Bucky loved to crank all the way and let it play out as it soothed him into a calmer and more restful state. It had _nothing_ to do with being surrounded by Clint’s scent).

(Seriously.)

Friday was team movie night, though that sometimes changed days depending on missions and call outs. This time Clint sat with Bucky, sprawling out over the couch in a manner that discouraged others from joining them. Steve had frozen at this development before beaming at them both and Bucky had to resist the urge to push Clint off the couch, like a cat that had be caught doing something wrong, regardless of the fact that he wasn’t doing _anything_ to be ashamed of.

It was that, or leap up and punch Steve in the face before he could say anything.

On and on it went, and there was something that lingered in the air around Clint that Bucky couldn’t put his finger on. Before he knew it, it had been weeks since he’d resolved to talk to Clint and he was no closer to bringing it up than he had been when Tony had first switched off the super strength on his arm.

Tonight, Bucky decided. Come hell or high water, he’d talk to Clint about it tonight.

So that night found Bucky standing in the hall on Clint’s floor, taking deep, deep breaths before he finally knocked on Clint’s door. Bucky still was not sure what he was going to say, but just as his courage started to fail him and he seriously thought about running away, the door opened. Clint was on the other side, disheveled and handsome as always.

And shirtless - why the fuck was he _shirtless?_ Didn’t Clint know how hard this already _was_ on Bucky? Bucky’s eyes were drawn to the muscles of Clint’s arms, to the soft and still toned stomach, to the bruise on his side -

Bucky felt that surge of irrational jealousy at the idea of Clint with anyone else (where had the bruise come from?) and squashed it by blurting out words instead.

“Look, I got somethin’ to say, been meanin’ to say it for a while. I won't apologize for... freaking out –" That’s what they called it these days right? “And I won't apologize for being concerned about your safety —"

Clint groaned, rolling his eyes upward and scrubbing a hand through his hair. “Could you _be_ any more stereotypical alpha? I thought we’d moved passed this?”

“But I _will_ apologize for not talking to you, and for shutting you out,” Bucky continued. “I’m sorry.”

Clint's hands froze high in his hair, eyes gone wide, a quiet _oh_ escaping his lips. He finished the motion before leaning on the doorframe, cocking out his hip and crossing his arms over his chest, staring at Bucky intently.

“So, uh, cool. That’s cool. I just have two questions, okay? First, what brought you to your senses? And second,” Clint paused, licking his lips and giving Bucky a heated once over, “does that mean fucking is back on the table?”

And that – that was something, that was _easy._ Bucky deflated, admitting, “Tony, surprisingly enough. And I was kinda hoping for somethin’ a little softer than a table, doll.”

Clint closed his eyes, nostrils flaring at the scent Bucky knew he was giving off, groaning loud and long. “Oh fuck yeah.”

He reached out, grabbed Bucky by the arm and yanked him into his quarters, the door slamming shut behind Bucky. He reeled Bucky in, but that first kiss was not the harsh, desperate clashing of tongues and mouths that Bucky had expected. Instead it was everything soft and warm and… and…

And _meaningful._

It made Bucky shudder for a wholly different cause then arousal. He felt… cherished in a way he had not felt in such a long, long time. And that Clint would feel that way for him, after what Bucky had put him through, and despite his past….

Bucky melted into the kiss, into Clints arms, surrounded by the scent of the other Alpha. The scent drowned out the klaxons going off in Bucky’s mind about this not being a good idea, that this couldn’t last, that this could so easily go back to that point where Bucky and Clint avoided each other while pining from afar.

But Bucky didn’t want that, and he’d _missed_ this. He breathed in deep of Clint, pressing himself into Clint’s taller, leaner body, relishing in the gasp that escaped Clint’s mouth at the press of their hard cocks together.

“What do you want?” Clint whispered against his lips.

“You,” Bucky said, slowly making his way over Clint’s jaw. Clint moaned, his head tilting as Bucky worked his mouth under his jaw.

“Okay, okay, but like… mmm….” Clint trailed off and clutched at Bucky. Clint shifted, drawing Bucky backwards slowly with him. “Bedroom’s too far, how about the couch? Is that soft enough?”

“Does it have lube or slick?” Bucky asked, breaking off his kisses to follow where Clint lead. There was a part of him exclaiming he’d follow Clint anywhere.

Clint chuckled. “Buck, I got that stuff stashed _everywhere.”_

“Then yeah, that’ll do,” Bucky agreed eagerly.

Clint sat abruptly, pulling Bucky down on top of him, and Bucky was reminded of the gym, when he’d first caved to the inevitability of him and Clint. He surged forward, bracing his arms on either side of Clint’s head on the back of the couch, pressing their lips together and now – oh _now –_ it was that desperate, dirty slide he’d expected.

He rolled his hips down onto Clint as Clint fumbled with Bucky’s shirt, sliding his hands under it. Bucky let out a stuttering breath as Clint’s warm hands splayed over his naked skin, nimble fingers dancing over his ribs. Bucky shuddered and Clint moaned as the scent of arousal around them thickened, and then he was grabbing at Bucky’s shirt and dragging it over his head.

It was still so strange to be this bare before Clint, at having the wrecked parts of his body exposed like this. It felt, somehow, even more intimate than Clint pulling him free of his pants, and yet Bucky’s body didn’t bother Clint at all.

But oh, that felt good…

Bucky broke off the kiss to lean his head against Clint’s, looking down at where Clint had Bucky’s cock in his hand and stroking slowly.

It was already overwhelming and Bucky was breathing hard, watching his cock disappearing into the grip of those strong hands and long fingers over and over again. His hips hitched forward with the movement and he shuddered.

“Y’said you had slick?” Bucky asked, his voice more hoarse than he’d expected.

Clint nodded. “Yeah, yeah, wanna get this cock inside me?” his hand slowed down as he leaned across the couch to fumble at the edge of a cushion.

“No, I… I wanna ride you,” Bucky admitted breathlessly. His face flushed hot and he wanted to bury himself in Clint’s neck, hide the way he was burning with embarrassment and need.

Like Clint couldn’t just _smell_ that coming off of him anyway.

If the way the air thickened was anything to go by, Clint was on board with this plan. Clint was scrambling back upright, dragging a tube of slick with him as he did, before grabbing Bucky’s face with both hands and kissing him hard. The hands slid down Bucky’s neck, brushed over his shoulders and tickled at his ribs, going further and further down till they slipped into the loose waistband of his pants to grab his ass and pull. Clint snapped up when he pulled and their cocks collided, Clints a hot, hard line tenting his sweats obscenely, easily felt through the fabric.

Devouring Bucky’s lips, Clint pushed and pulled lips and mouths till they undulated against each other relentlessly while Bucky hung onto the back of the couch for dear life, one hand coming up to tentatively grip the back of Clint’s head. When Clint didn’t seem to mind, Bucky’s grip firmed.

After too short a time, Clint broke away from the kiss, dropping his head onto the back of the couch to look Bucky in the eyes. Bucky tilted forward, intent on chasing Clint’s lips, the taste and scent of him.

Clint moved one hand to cup Bucky’s jaw and stop him, locking eyes with him. Clint’s eyes were very blown and Bucky wasn’t sure how he was thinking coherently when Bucky very much _wasn’t._

“You sure?”

“Very,” Bucky groaned. “Please…”

Thumb moving gently over the line of Bucky’s jaw, Clint nodded, hand dropping away when Bucky gave in to the urge to cover Clint’s body with his own, rubbing against him, hands wandering into the spikey blonde mess on his head. Bucky shivered at the sound of the tube opening, at the sound of Clint slicking up his fingers, at the gasping inhale from Clint that ended on a groan.

“You smell so good,” Clint’s voice was rough. “You want me inside you that much?”

Clint pushed at the back of Bucky’s open jeans, managing to get them lodged just under the swell of his ass and then – with one hand grasping a cheek and spreading him open – the tip of a slick finger circled at Bucky’s hole.

Bucky went limp against Clint, nose buried in Clint’s neck like he’d been wanting to do since the first kiss, arms wrapped around his neck and head. It was chest to chest, skin on skin, sweaty and hot. Bucky pushed his ass back into Clint’s hands with a shuddering cry and relentless rolling.

Beneath him, Clint groaned, the sound reverberating through Bucky’s chest. “Damn, but this is a hell of an ego boost, Buck,” Clint said. His voice was thick with the same awe and need that devoured his scent. This close, all Bucky could smell was Clint, Clint, Clint and he whined, biting at the flesh of Clint’s shoulder gently. He throbbed and leaked across Clint’s stomach even as Clint slowly pressed inside him, in, then out, then in again. Over and over, slow but persistent, stretching Bucky and driving him mad at the same time.

Bucky pushed back into every thrust of Clint’s fingers as he added them, mouthing wetly at Clint’s throat, until he could capture Clint’s mouth again. The kiss was something between the soft and meaningful thing it had been at first, and the harsher, more desperate slide it had turned into. Now it was frantic breaths caught between each meeting of lips, the gentle tugging of Bucky’s lower lip in Clint’s teeth, the sensuous slide of tongues barely touching before diving deeper in –

Everything about Clint, every touch, noise and smell was echoing through Bucky, bringing him closer and closer to the edge. This was even more than the last time they had been together and Bucky couldn’t see what the difference was.

He whined into Clint’s mouth when Clint’s fingers slipped free but Clint shushed him, nuzzling into Bucky’s neck before pulling back. Clints hands were moving, urging Bucky up and to his knees and then there was a tearing sound, the rush of air and Bucky’s jeans were drooping off his body even more than they had been.

Gaping down at Clint, Bucky could see the large wet spot staining the front of Clint’s sweatpants.

“Did you just…” Bucky breathed out.

“Can’t wait anymore,” Clint said. “You?” Clint was fumbling at his crotch, shoving the sweats down, and Bucky watched his cock spring free and bounce heavily, dripping copiously. Clint’s hand wrapped around his own cock and gave it a coupe of strokes, spreading slick and his own precome around it while he bit his lip, waiting for Bucky’s answer.

“God, no,” Bucky agreed. “I want… I _need.._.”

“Go ahead, Bucky,” Clint said, his voice so soft it almost didn’t penetrate the haze of need that was flooding Bucky. “Take what you need.”

That was all the encouragement Bucky needed. He rose up on higher, bracing himself on Clint’s shoulders and lowered himself down on Clint’s cock, groaning when the blunt head nudged at him. Clint kept a hand there, keeping himself steady, the other hand on Bucky’s ass and guiding him. Bucky’s hands clenched and unclenched on Clint’s shoulders as he felt the thick cock filling him, spreading him open.

When he finally sat fully in Clint’s lap, the soft fabric of the sweats rubbing at his ass and Clint’s cock pressed deep, Bucky had to pause. Their heads bumped together again and both of Clint’s hands were on Bucky’s hips now.

“Breathe…” Clint said, his voice strained as Bucky panted. Bucky could feel Clint’s thighs quivering beneath him. There was a lustful urgency to Clint’s scent now, and Bucky’s answered in kind, with no hope to keep it reigned in. He had to remind himself it was okay to let his scent roll free over them, that he wasn’t a mindless, emotionless machine anymore. “Move when you’re ready.”

Bucky rose up slowly and watched Clint’s eyes roll up, his eyelids fluttering closed, the barely there groan as if he didn’t have enough air to make a sound. Biting his lip, Bucky closed his own eyes and focused on the feeling of Clint inside him, could feel himself clenching down and Clint jerked and gasped.

“Fuck, you feel so good,” Clint said.

“Yeah?” Bucky asked, eyes flickering open to look at Clint’s face, at the flaring of his nostrils as it pulled in their mingled scents, at the flush on his cheeks highlighting a dusting of freckles Bucky hadn’t realized were there. He pushed back down as slowly as he’d lifted up, watching Clint’s face when he’d taken him all in again. Clint whined.

Bucky could feel Clint’s fingers flexing on his hips and knew that Clint wanted to yank Bucky down, but he was holding back, letting Bucky set the pace. Even now, in this, Clint was ever thoughtful of Bucky.

“Yeah,” Clint gasped out as Bucky shifted a little, then started rising and falling a little faster, though still slow.

“You do too, sweetheart,” Bucky said, his hands sliding down to splay over Clint’s chest as his back arched with each downward roll of his hips. “So damn good… Fuck…”

Beneath him, Clint’s body was rocking in small, cut off movements, still trying not to thrust up, but it was clearly difficult and Bucky didn’t want him holding back anymore.

“C’mon, Clint,” Bucky said. “No holding back, sweetheart. I wanna feel you for days.”

He’d barely finished speaking when Clint took him at his word and yanked Bucky down on his cock hard. Bucky threw his head back at the snap of Clint’s hips and groaned, rolling to meet each upward thrust of Clint’s hips. His skin was heated and slick as they moved together, the room filled with scent and sound that mingled and echoed and urged them on.

Clint’s cock moved in Bucky, pressing deep and filling him in ways he’d never thought possible. He wasn’t going to last, his own cock leaking all over Clint’s stomach, painting those beautiful abs with Bucky’s desire, thick with his own scent.

The idea of marking and claiming Clint with this scent washed over Bucky and he jerked forward, drawn to that place on Clints throat that had been filled with a tantalizing note of… of something, and all Bucky knew was he craved more of it. he wrapped his arms around Clint again, moving desperately against him, chasing the lightning that flared up inside of him with every stroke of Clint’s cock. He was breathing fast into Clint’s neck, interspersed with soft whines and broken groans.

“Fuck, Bucky,” Clint gasped. “Fuck….” Bucky would be proud that he’d reduced Clint to a handful of words and a whole lot of moaning, but he was too lost in the sensation of Clint pounding his ass, of Clint’s knot pushing at his rim, swelling inside of him and getting caught.

Bucky couldn’t remember the last time he’d had a cock in his ass, much less a knot, but his eyes rolled up in his head as Clint filled him so completely, pressing on that spot inside Bucky that sent even more shocks of pleasure through him. His own knot swelled, and Bucky stiffened in Clint’s arms, even as Clint still rocked against him, and he came long and hard. Bucky could feel the sticky spurts of come coating them, dripping down his skin as Clint gripped Bucky’s ass and pulled, grinding upwards and coming with a long, low cry of his own.

His hips jerked into Bucky, as they spent themselves, and then Bucky turned his head and their lips met while they shuddered in each other’s arms, Clint reaching around to carefully massage Bucky’s knot too, making him gasp into Clint’s mouth.

At last, Bucky felt Clint relax beneath him and the kiss turned a little less desperate and far more sweet and Bucky slumped into Clint like a boneless cat.

There was no panic, this time, no shredded couch cushion to jar Bucky back to reality. He drifted in Clint’s arms as Clint rubbed circles into the small of Bucky’s back. They lay together long enough that Clint’s knot slipped free, then his cock.

Bucky whined when he was empty and Clint chuckled.

“Think it’s safe to say we _both_ want that to happen again,” Clint said. Bucky only grunted in response, far too content to move. He felt… good. He felt… safe. Hell, this was the safest he’d felt in far, far too long. He fought to keep his eyes open and heard Clint chuckling again.

“Stay the night?” Clint’s next words were soft, hesitant, and Bucky sniffed, his nose conveniently placed close to Clint’s scent glands. There was an odd note to it, one that was a little more acrid, something fearful, he thought muzzily, and that cleared his head quick.

Clint wanted him to say yes, Bucky was surprised to realize, but after the last time, Clint – rightfully - feared Bucky’s rejection. Bucky’s heart panged at the hurt he’d inadvertently done to Clint because of his own fears and demons, despite that it was through a desire to protect the other Alpha from _himself_.

The damage was still done. He’d still _hurt_ Clint. He’d made this confident man uncertain and that would just not do.

For an answer, Bucky snuggled in deeper, tightening his grip on Clint. “Stayin’,” he murmured tiredly.

The relief that flooded his nose was staggering, but Clint’s body relaxed even further and then Clint was standing, an arm looped under Bucky’s ass. Fuck, Clint was stronger than Bucky had thought and he found he liked that.

“Where’re we goin’?”

“Bed, Bucky, and gonna get something to clean us up, too,” Clint said. “Since you’re stayin’, an’ all. Couch is nice – only the best on Starks dime, y’know? - but it ain’t quite as comfortable as a real bed.”

That… sounded real nice, actually. So Bucky let Clint carry him through the entire quarters and lay him down on the bed. It was a little tricky when it came time to let go of Clint – Bucky found he had to fight himself to do it. But then Clint was back, naked as a babe, and he was wiping Bucky down and helping him to remove the remains of his jeans.

Bucky blinked at the damage.

“Damn, sweetheart. Those biceps of yours are a dream,” Bucky said.

Clint laughed. “That’s what archery gets ya. It ain’t all Alpha nonsense,” he said, climbing onto the bed and smiling at Bucky. “Big spoon or little?”

Both sounded nice, but this was already pushing some of Bucky’s boundaries a lot so he settled for big spoon and watched as Clint rolled over and tucked himself back into Bucky’s body. Bucky swallowed and hesitantly curled around him, letting his arm drape over Clint’s hip.

As he drifted off to sleep, the thought occurred to him that this felt like more than a friends with benefits type thing.

Huh.

How and when had that changed?


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Waking up with Clint in his arms is something Bucky suddenly realizes he wants, all the time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A little shorter than the last one, but it *felt* right to end this here. this is mostly domestic fluff with a little bit of 'fun' stuff thrown in, because apparently they are insatiable.

Bucky woke up first, but there was no nightmare, just warmth and cozy contentedness. He was wrapped even more firmly around Clint than he had been upon falling to sleep to begin with and Clint was out like a light, snoring lightly.

It was endearing, actually, how comfortable the other Alpha was in Bucky’s presence. He’d rolled partially over in his sleep so he was on his back and his mouth was gaped open, a small line of drool on his face. One arm was thrown up over his head, the other rested on his belly, the blankets slipped low. Bucky knew he ran hot and JARVIS kept the tower at a comfortable temperature unless asked otherwise.

Gazing at Clint, unable to keep his eyes from roaming the full expanse of his naked body - never truly able to just look his fill and appreciate the view before - Bucky’s eyes stuttered on that bruise he’d noted the night before.

He felt sick at the thought of Clint with someone else - but it really wasn’t his business, was it? Especially when Bucky had made it clear they were through. 

Clint stirred in his arms, nose wrinkling and Bucky swallowed, trying to regain control of himself, but Clint blinked his eyes open with a yawn and a soft smile that was full of ecstatic disbelief.

Like he’d thought he’d wake and Bucky would be gone but was pleased (and surprised) to find he was not.

“Mmm…. what’s wrong?” he mumbled sleepily. Bucky shook his head, eyes flicking down and back up again involuntarily. He flushed and started to pull away. He didn’t bother to say anything, knowing Clint couldn’t hear him. He hadn’t seen Clint take them out, but the hearing aids were gone from his ears.

He saw Clint’s gaze flicker downward too and Clint groaned. “Nat plays dirty. I swear every time we spar, she leaves me presents like that. And then she just says it’s to motivate me to do better next time.”

The immense relief that followed shook Bucky to his core and he turned red as he knew there was no hope of that being missed. He ducked his head as Clint eyed him shrewdly, but his hair was still tied back from the previous day, though it was far looser and messier than it had been. A few strands had escaped the tie, but not enough to hide his face.

“Oh,” Clint breathed out. “Were you jealous?”

Bucky shook his head, but the denial was futile as Clint fully rolled over in Bucky’s arms and kissed him sweetly. “That’s actually… I’ve never had anyone be jealous over _me_ before.”

Bucky blinked at that. That didn’t sound right to him. Clint was fun, he was good, and he was hot - why wouldn’t people want him all to themselves?

Clint laughed. “Wow, you really...” Clint didn’t finish the sentence, just stared at Bucky wonderingly, his scent wrapping around Bucky with warm notes and pure happiness. It was boggling Bucky that Clint wasn’t the least bit mad or upset at Bucky’s unacceptable possessiveness. That was more than a little strange to him, and Bucky’s breath stuttered on it.

“Hey, it’s okay,” Clint said softly, lifting a hand to caress Bucky’s cheek. Bucky closed his eyes and sighed into the touch.

They were definitely wading in feelings territory and Bucky still wasn’t sure how they’d gotten there but Clint didn’t seem to mind.

Bucky wanted to stay, wanted to kiss Clint senseless, wanted to press Clint’s hand to his mouth and kiss each finger but he couldn’t. It was starting to feel weird, knowing that he had _feelings_ for Clint, when he shouldn’t have let himself. He was far too much of a mess for that, and besides - Clint had been the one to suggest a friends with benefits thing, so it wasn’t like he was onboard for Bucky having feelings either.

It was a wrench to pull himself away but he covered Clints hand on his cheek, gave it a squeeze even as he sent a smile Clints way, then pulled it away. He rolled off the bed to his feet and stretched. He heard Clint groan and the bed rustling behind him as he did the same. Clint padded through the room with a naked grace that caught Bucky’s eye because, well, how could it not? All sleek muscle and -

Bucky shook his head as Clint disappeared into the en suite, grateful that his blush would go unnoticed. Bucky heard the shower start up and then Clint was back in the bedroom. 

“Shower? And I can dig up some clothes so you can go back to your rooms without being buck ass naked, cause I imagine that’d be pretty awkward for you.” Clint rubbed the back of his neck and looked - and smelled - a little sheepish. “And I’m sorry about the pants.”

Clint was far too adorable like that. An adorable Alpha and Bucky was gone, gone, gone, wasn’t he? He’d never stood a chance and why fight it any more?

Making up his mind - because _Clint_ didn't need to know Bucky had feelings - Bucky nodded, crossing the room giving Clint a light kiss.

“It’s okay,” he said, pulling the hair band out of his hair and shaking it free, giving it a quick run through with his fingers. “I kind of liked it.” Bucky hoped the meaning came across as he gave Clint’s biceps a squeeze on the way past him.

Bucky slipped into the shower, the water already pleasantly hot, and Clint wasn’t far behind, sliding his arms around Bucky’s waist from behind and pressing into him. Clint hummed against the back of Bucky’s neck and Bucky inhaled steam and the hint of Clint’s arousal, growing hard at the touch.

They stood that way, Clint hard against his ass, doing nothing more than that. Clint nosing along his neck, scenting lightly, his hips rolling slowly, slowly, slowly against Bucky. Something fluttered inside him, at this show of tenderness.

What if he wasn’t the _only_ one that had caught feelings?

No, that was far too much to hope for.

“Thinkin’ too much, Buck,” Clint said, his voice low and sending a light shiver through Bucky. “Don’t have to do anything. You _never_ have to do anything you don’t want, you got that?”

Bucky’s breath hitched and he leaned back into Clint, reaching for the hands around his waist and grasping them hard. Tears filled his eyes and if he let them fall, silent, Clint wouldn’t see them with all the water coming down around them, even if they were facing each other.

“I think I love you,” Bucky whispered to the ceiling, knowing Clint wouldn’t hear him and JARVIS would keep his secrets but unable to hold back the words. He struggled to keep his scent steady, hoped it would be interpreted as simply lust.

Clint made no reaction that he thought otherwise as he peppered soft, open mouthed kisses along Bucky’s shoulders.

The entire shower was like that – soft and slow. Soap filled caresses with the brightest purple washcloth Bucky had ever seen. They took turns wiping each other down slowly, the shower pressure quickly rinsing it away as lips followed after. Clints hands in Bucky’s hair was an experience, gentle scratching and kneading massages – Bucky’s knees turned to jelly and his arm had shot out to brace himself on the wall. Clint had chuckled but then Bucky returned the favor. Though his hair was significantly shorter, Clint still moaned shamelessly wen Bucky ran his fingers over Clint’s scalp.

They finished the shower with a lazy hand job and deep kisses that left every part of Bucky tingling.

The water turned off as they stepped out onto a plush purple bath rug and Clint handed him the softest, biggest towel Bucky had ever had the pleasure of using. Amazingly enough, it wasn’t purple, it was actually black, or at least close enough to it to count. Bucky let out a huff of surprise as he ran the towel over his arms and down his torso. Clint caught his eye and laughed.

“Nat bought them. Said there was too much purple in my life and I needed to branch out a bit,” Clint confided. “Though she compromised. They’re still purple, they’re just a really rich, dark purple.”

“It suits you,” Bucky said, without thinking. Clint just beamed at him as they finished drying off, then moved out of the bathroom, still as unabashedly naked as anything.

Bucky watched the view, the flex of muscles as Clint walked away, remembering vaguely a time before when openly watching a naked man like this – full of admiration, lust and longing (and love) – would have been taboo.

“Jesus, the future is fucking fantastic,” Bucky breathed out. Clint turned from the bedside table, settling his aides into his ears.

“Hmm… what was that?”

Trying for a little of his old charm, Bucky leaned against the doorjam between the bathroom and the bedroom and crossed his arms over his chest sweeping his eyes up and down Clint’s magnificent form. “Just admiring the view, sweetheart,” he said.

Clint beamed. “Could say the same about you,” he said, sending Bucky a look filled with so much warmth that it made Bucky’s stomach squirm and his breath faltering. To hide it, he pushed off the wall, sauntering towards Clint.

Smirking, Clint turned, propping a hip and one hand on the bedside table, reaching out for Bucky and reeling him in as soon as he was close enough. Clint caught Bucky in another kiss that left him reeling with the headiness of it. He pushed forward, already thickening against Clint.

Clint broke off the kiss and smoothed Bucky’s hair out of his face. “Man, are all super soldiers blessed with such a short refractory time, or am I just that enticing?”

Bucky blushed and went to move back. “I’m sorry – “

Putting a finger over Bucky’s lips, Clint said, “Shh… don’t be. It’s flattering as hell, even if I can’t quite reciprocate. But…” Clint’s smile turned devilish and the scent shifted, filling with smugness that confused Bucky until Clint dropped to his knees, running his hands up and down Bucky’s thighs. “But I can do this,” he murmured, nosing forward.

Gasping as Clint suckled at the tip of his already leaking cock, Bucky’s hands flew to land in Clint’s hair. “Jesus, doll, you really like cock, don’t ya?”

He stared down at Clint with disbelief as he spoke and watched Clint sliding his mouth down along Bucky’s shaft, an aroma of deep pleasure and contentment overtaking the smugness.

“Why are you doing this?” Bucky asked hoarsely, then groaned when Clint twisted his tongue around and his brain fritzed out. It took him a moment to try and finish the question. “You get nothing out of this, you’re not even hard.”

“I love the weight and taste of you on my tongue,” Clint protested, pulling back. Bucky had to hold in the whine when Clint took his mouth off him. “The way I make you feel. And the _scent_ of you, Bucky, geez, that you want me so bad! Baby, if I could get hard for you again, I would.”

He started up at Bucky with hazy, lust filled eyes, with something sifter lingering behind the lust and Bucky didn’t know what to do with that.

And then Clint opened his mouth up once more and swallowed Bucky down without much preamble and Bucky just stopped _thinking_. Clint pulled out everything and Bucky was coming before he knew it. he’d be embarrassed by that, but Clint was licking his lips smelling so thickly of proud smugness that Bucky’s embarrassment washed away before it could gain much foothold.

He yanked Clint to his feet and kissed him hard, tasting himself in Clint’s mouth.

“That good, huh?” Clint asked, grinning widely when they finally broke apart. “Guess sword swallowing’s a skill I’ll never regret learning.”

“Sword swallowing - ?” Bucky shook his head. “Never mind.”

Clint waggled his eyebrows at him. “C’mon, let’s get dressed. I’m _starving_.”

Bemusedly, Bucky allowed Clint to pull him about the room, rummaging for clothes. The jeans were a little long, but Bucky sat on the bed and rolled up the cuffs of them. Despite being clean, they still had Clint’s scent on them and instead of entertaining the idea of returning to his own room and changing into his own clothes like he _should_ , Bucky found himself reluctant to do that very thing.

Being wrapped in Clint’s smell was comforting, far more than it should be, if he hadn’t already realized he was a bit sweet on Clint.

He just hoped nobody _else_ realized it. At this point, though, Bucky was resigned to the fact that there was no way he and Clint were going to hide they were _anything_ to each other. Not if Tony had already known. And there was no way _Natasha_ didn’t already know. What amazed Bucky was that Steve had been completely oblivious.

And Bucky didn’t want to hide anymore. Well, his feelings, sure, but not everything else. It was too exhausting.

“So you never said - what changed?” Clint asked suddenly, dragging a shirt over his head and then running a hand over his mussed-up hair. It did nothing to fix the hair, Bucky was amused to note.

“Tony found a failsafe for my arm. We’re looking for ways to make it easier to turn on and off, but right now, it’s about as strong as a regular Joe,” he answered, accepting the hoody Clint was offering him.

“There’s nothing regular about you,” Clint said, letting his eyes roam up and down Bucky’s body.

That almost hit Bucky hard, because he _wanted_ to be normal, wished he didn't have the past he’d had, the brainwashing, the metal arm, but he knew that wasn’t what Clint meant.

He took a deep breath, and looked away for a second and then Clint was there, in his space, a hand over his arm, making Bucky look back and catch Clint’s eyes.

“Hey, look, I get it,” Clint said softly. “I’m sorry and… I should have known better. Felt like that most of my damn life. I’ve learned to just… embrace it. It’s not so bad, really.” He gave Bucky a lopsided smile. “Well, most of it, anyway. I’ll tell you about it sometime, if you want to know.”

Bucky narrowed his eyes at Clint suspiciously. “Does this have anything to do with the sword swallowing thing?”

Clint’s eyes crinkled and he laughed. “Maybe a little.” He pulled Bucky up off the bed and helped him with the hoody, giving him a smirk. “Huh, don’t know why, but my stuff looks good on you.”

“I’d look good in anything,” Bucky forced out around his blush at the compliment, trying to wave it off. Clint chuckled lightly.

“Yeah, you do.”

Well… so much for not blushing.


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A little accidental exposure to Tony's oncoming heat has Bucky and Clint falling back into bed, and Bucky maybe saying some truths aloud that he'd rather not have said.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Winterhawk Bingo - Square N5: Public Groping.  
> ... didn't say it had to be Bucky and Clint... but they are, uh, a bit affected so i figure it counts.

They left Clint’s apartment to go to the common area for food. Sure, they all had their own kitchens but, there was just something so much more appealing to a community space with food and friends and family. Or at least the potential of it, anyway.

He glanced at Clint as they moved into the kitchen.

Or maybe more than just potential. Steve was already family, the rest of the team had already accepted him with open arms, for the most part and Clint – Clint was something more. Even if Bucky would never be able to tell him that.

Steve and Sam were at the stove, cooking and ribbing each other as they went. Steve was a terrible cook, and Bucky knew that first hand, so if there was anything Sam could do to salvage breakfast – or teach Steve how to do _anything_ in the kitchen – that was wonderful. Bruce sat at the table with a book, Nat was close by with a mug of tea, Bucky thought, judging by the smell. She stared at Sam with a small smile and huh… okay then.

Maybe it was _Bucky_ who should get his nose checked?

Considering that Thor was away visiting Jane, that left only Tony missing.

Bucky stopped a few feet away from the table, Clint moving on without him – beelining for that coffee pot, as usual – and just let the combined scents of the common area wash over him. It was full of home and family and a contentedness Bucky had never thought he’d ever have again and for a moment it was almost overwhelming.

But then Clint’s scent soothed the ruffled edges around him and he moved forward once more, accepting the mug that Clint had poured for him with a smile and a soft thank you, one that he thought Clint _saw_ more than heard, but Clint hummed back, eyes warm and twinkling.

They took themselves to the table, sitting at one end of it, facing the kitchen where they could watch Steve and Sam and let themselves simply _exist_ for a time, while Steve and Sam’s good-natured bickering filled the space. Bruce and Nat seemed perfectly fine with the same thing, though Bucky thought he caught a hint of a knowing smile off her in their direction before she hid it away again.

He blushed, then ducked his head, letting his hair fall forward.

“You gotta stop _doing_ that,” Clint complained, reaching out and brushing some of Bucky’s hair back and tucking it behind an ear. “It hides your beautiful face and then I have no idea if you’re talkin’ to me or not.”

Steve and Sam both turned to look at them, and Bucky saw Sam mouth ‘beautiful’ in disbelief. Steve just beamed.

“Bucky, Clint! Good morning – didn’t hear you two come in.” Steve gave Bucky an approving look and he knew instantly that Steve was ‘proud’ of Bucky because he and Clint were getting along. _Oh, if only he knew._

“That’s because you and Sam bicker like an old married couple,” Bucky said dryly. Clint snorted and choked on his coffee.

Steve looked offended, then panicked as he glanced at Nat. “No, it’s not like that – “

Nat arched an eyebrow at him and Steve paled. Looked like the little – not so little – punk had finally noticed something outside of himself and Tony for once, Bucky thought. And where _was_ Tony anyway? Bucky really needed to thank him.

“Uh…” Steve cast wildly about him and Bucky rolled his eyes and got up, snagging his and Clints cups on the way to refill them. He pushed past Steve, jostling him a little to get him out of his headspace and leaned over to steal a slice of bacon out of the pan, completely disregarding Sam’s, “Hey!”

“Bucky… are those Clint’s _pants_?” Steve asked suddenly. Bucky froze, forced himself to relax and shrugged. _Done hiding_ , he reminded himself. Except for that part about having feelings for Clint.

“Maybe.”

“Why are you wearing Clint’s pants?” Steve asked super slowly. Bucky could see the wheels turning.

“Because I was hungry and didn’t want to wander the tower half naked?”

“But why _Clint’s_ pants? You have plenty –“

Bucky sighed. “Stevie, are you really that dense?”

“Want me to answer that for him?” Sam asked.

It was then that the elevator door opened and Bucky reeled back at the scent pouring out of it. It was Tony, definitely Tony, but it was… different, and _strong._ Full of need, desire and desperation. He saw Steve’s nostril’s flare and his eyes dilate with the strength of it and – _oh…_

He swiveled back around in time to watch Tony approaching Steve with single minded determinedness. Tony was a man on a mission and Bucky couldn’t stop watching his approach, like it was a train wreck and he couldn’t take his eyes away. Bucky’s gaze followed Tony as he stalked right past the table and up into Steve’s space. Steve was flushed as he looked down at Tony and he’d backed up into the counter with a bump.

Bucky scurried back and out of the way of the extremely horny Omega who had cornered Captain America – the entirely clueless beta and not the Alpha the world had, and still, believed Steve to be. He stopped beside Clint and handed him the coffee and then tried to decide if it was time to beat a strategic retreat or not.

Clint chugged the coffee down without blinking his eyes away from the scene in front of them, placing the empty mug absentmindedly on the table in front of him. Bucky nudged it away from the edge just as absentmindedly, eyes going back to Steve and Tony.

“Uh, Tony?”

“What do I have to do to spell it out for you, huh?”

“What?” Steve squeaked.

Tony poked Steve in the chest. “You. Me. Bunnies. Now.”

Clint fell off his chair and Bucky turned away to look down at him in concern. Clint waved off the concern but then accepted a hand to be pulled up.

Another wave of arousal pushed through the room and Bucky closed his eyes against it, feeling himself harden at the scent, images flashing through his brain of him and Clint – last night, in the shower, and more.

“Oh man,” Sam said in defeat. “Right here? I’m making breakfast – take your sexy times elsewhere!”

Bucky tried to take in a deep breath to control himself, and oh, that was a mistake. He held back the groan and opened his eyes, taking in Clint’s rapid breathing and dilated pupils, at the tingling touch of Clint’s skin on his where their hands were still clasped together.

He’d thought Clint’s aroused scent was a heady mix, but Bucky had forgotten the impact of an Omega in heat. Not that he wanted Tony, not in the slightest, but Bucky was never far from wanting Clint and this _wasn’t_ helping.

“I will hit you both with a spray bottle!” Sam warned and Bucky wasn’t sure who he was talking to right now, because he was having a very hard time not just jumping Clint right then and there and bending him over the table –

A clatter, hiss and an outraged squawk helped Bucky shake off the incredibly intoxicating thoughts of what he wanted to do _to_ and _with_ Clint and allowed him to turn and see –

Steve, breathing hard, his jeans snapped open obscenely and his hair mussed. He was soaked, and so was Tony – whose clothes were even more in disrepair than Steve’s, Tony’s button up shirt was wide open and hanging off his elbows, and buttons scattered the floor.

“Take it to your rooms,” Sam barked at Steve and Tony. Bucky exchanged a glance with Clint and saw the same thought in his eyes.

They abandoned breakfast and raced back to Clint’s rooms. They were barely inside before Bucky finally allowed that part of him that had been affected by Tony’s scent to take control again, and he had Clint flattened against the door, nipping at his neck and their hips rolling together as Clint clutched at Bucky’s shoulders and gasped.

“Fuck,” Clint groaned. “I think Tony clocked us into overdrive.”

Bucky paused in his quest to taste every inch of Clint’s skin, resting his head against the door beside Clint’s and breathing hard. “Jesus,” he gulped raggedly. “Is this… do you want…”

Clint rolled his hips up once more, rocking his very real desire right against Bucky and Bucky whimpered. “What part of this do you think I don’t want?”

“I mean… you said it. We’re both being affected by _Tony’s_ scent,” Bucky pointed out. “We’re not thinking clearly.”

“Thinking, schminking,” Clint scoffed. He slid his hands up off Bucky’s shoulders, trailing a hot blaze along his neck to cup his jaw and pull him back so their eyes could meet. Bucky shivered at the heat in them. “I’m already into you, Buck, and I’d spend all day, every day, in bed with you, if I could, sex or not.”

Bucky couldn’t breathe at the raw honesty of that, the flare of need and desire and _truth_ surrounding him. The traces of Tony’s heat were already fading, overpowered by their own mingled arousal – a smell that Bucky didn’t think he’d ever get tired of.

“I’m an Alpha – do you wish I was an Omega like Tony? Do you… do you miss it?” Bucky asked, feeling suddenly, wildly, insecure and hating every second of it.

“Do you?” Clint asked calmly.

“No!” Bucky blurted. “You’re all that I want, doll, and you’re more than enough for me.” Bucky’s eyes widened, because that was far, far too close to the truth.

“It’s the same for me,” Clint said, his hand caressing softly over Bucky’s jaw, rasping over the fast-growing stubble that required a daily routine that he’d absolutely skipped this morning, far too interested in being with Clint in any way possible, now that he could _allow_ himself that. “Think of Tony’s heat scent like… an aphrodisiac. Didn’t have to be his, it just had to be raw and full of wanting – a wanting I’m more than eager to sate, if you’re willing.”

Bucky nodded in Clint’s grip and Clint murmured, “Awesome,” before pulling Bucky back into him, this time their lips meeting in a mind meltingly soft kiss that somehow lit Bucky up even more. He hadn’t known he could want anyone more than he already wanted Clint but then Clint did something else, and he did.

His eyes slipped closed as their mouths and tongues moved together, slowly, gently, the kiss growing ever deeper as time passed. Their bodies rocked together just as slowly, the urgency brought on by Tony’s display in the kitchen having soothed to something a little less wild as Clint’s scent wrapped around him, hints of something in it that touched Bucky’s core but that Bucky couldn’t quite put his finger on.

“How do you want me?” Clint murmured against Bucky’s lips and Bucky, feeling vulnerable, in all the best ways, felt a thrill at how – once again – Clint was offering him the reins.

Suddenly unable to voice it in words, Bucky pulled back, slowly, face blushing hotly. He grabbed Clints hands in his and gave them a gentle squeeze, then pulled him along, Bucky leading them through Clint’s living room.

“In a bed, for once,” Bucky managed as they cleared the threshold.

Clint flashed him a grin. “Dunno, thought I had you in my bed all morning.”

Bucky rolled his eyes, because Clint knew what he meant, and Clint just continued to grin cheekily at him. When they reached the bed, Bucky let go of Clint’s hands and worked his shirt and borrowed pants off – his undergarments already in Clint’s laundry.

And then he turned, and crawled onto the bed on his hands and knees and waited, shivering lightly in anticipation.

For the second time in 24 hours, Clint’s voice was hushed and careful, as he clearly remembered Bucky’s request from that first time together – don’t cage him in. “Are you sure?”

Bucky raised a hand to push hair out of his face as he turned his head to start at Clint. “Yes,” he said calmly, despite the twisting anticipation – because he was fairly sure he knew Clint by now, and how much he trusted Clint, how _safe_ he felt with him. “I want this, Clint, please.”

Clint pushed forward, nearly tripping as he reached the bed, leaning over to kiss Bucky long and sweet, the taste of coffee rich on his tongue still, though you’d think it would have been sucked away by all the kissing they’d already been doing.

“Okay, baby, okay,” Clint breathed, pulling back with glazed eyes, his awed and happy scent washing over them both and making Bucky nearly wriggle with it. Clint stepped back, fumbling with his own clothes, then the drawer of his bedside, before climbing onto the bed, causing it to dip, taking Clint out of Bucky’s sight.

“I won’t pin you down,” Clint murmured. “Let me know if it’s too much.”

He couldn’t _see_ him, but he could _sense_ Clint in nearly every other way. Bucky could hear the rustle of the sheets and his indrawn breaths; the scent of Clint so deep and thick Bucky could almost taste him on his tongue. He could feel the rough pads of Clint’s fingertips skimming down the length of Bucky’s spine, sweeping up in broad movements, then down again, over and over, slowly dipping lower and lower, joined by the press of his lips.

Bucky trembled under every pass of fingers and lips along his skin, almost cried at the gentleness of it, the care that Clint gave Bucky a hundred-fold. Clint’s hands, nice and big and strong, pulled Bucky’s ass apart and his tongue swiped over Bucky’s hole, Bucky letting out a short, keening cry and rocking back into it.

Clint spent far too long driving Bucky mad with his tongue, getting him spit slick and teasing his hole before pausing long enough that Bucky heard a click. Even still, the first touch of slick fingers rubbing around the edges of his rim made him cry out again and Clint chuckle into his ass before biting lightly at the swell of it.

Slowly, gently, as if he hadn’t done it the night before, Clint opened Bucky up on his fingers, adding the next one on a seeming whim, when Bucky was more than ready for the next _ages_ ago.

“Please, Clint,” Bucky begged. “Sweetheart, I need you…”

“Yeah,” Clint said hoarsely. “I do too.”

He finally withdrew his fingers and for a second, Bucky was far, far too empty, and then Clint was moving, lining himself up, and nudging at Bucky’s hole with his cock, his fingers grasping Bucky’s hips as they pressed together, keeping him still, keeping everything at Clint’s _slow_ pace. Bucky could have easily pushed back, taken Clint all in one go, but the slow gentleness of it had him under a spell so deep that Bucky fell forward, ass up, head down as he bit his lip on a sob, pulling a pillow to his chest and curling around it, an anchor, grounding him.

Once seated, Clint’s hands moved away, leaving their only point of contact his cock buried inside Bucky’s ass, his hips flush against Bucky. Then Clint shifted forward and Bucky could _feel_ the line of heat that was Clint as Clint reached over Bucky’s head to grasp the headboard, even though he didn’t lean down and press himself against Bucky’s back.

Not crowding him, despite that Bucky had practically offered it up to him. Clint was just that thoughtful, reading Bucky so easily and a tension he hadn’t realized he was still carrying eased inside him, allowing him to just feel and enjoy the way Clint felt - hot and hard and _right_ fucking there, as the movement made Bucky groan when it pulled Clint’s cock deeper inside him.

“Jesus,” Bucky gasped. Could he love Clint any more?

And Clint fucked him, slow and steady, till Bucky was shaking with it, sweat pooling along his back, even though it was really Clint doing all the work.

“Fuck, baby, so beautiful like this, so tight around me,” Clint was groaning. “How could I ever want an Omega – or anyone else, really – when I have this with you?”

“Nnngh…” Bucky said intelligibly, eyes closing and his hands clenching in the sheets.

“You’re special, Bucky Barnes, and I’m goddamn lucky to know you,” Clint said, his thrusts finally speeding up, just a little, just enough to drive Bucky closer to the edge. Bucky gasped at the words, at the scent infused honesty of them, because how could Clint believe that when Bucky had fucked up so bad?

“Stop that, you are,” Clint said, his pace quickening once more, his cock pressing into Bucky firmly with each thrust, hitting the mark perfectly, just as always. “Touch yourself for me? ‘m gettin’ close.”

Snaking a hand under him, Bucky pulled at his cock, groaning long and deep at the first touch of his own fingers against his hard flesh. He quickly settled into a matching rhythm with Clint, both of them chasing their pleasure, till their orgasms swept over them, near simultaneously, Bucky coming first and drawing Clint right over the edge with them.

Clint rocked into Bucky a few more times, his knot catching and his come filling Bucky, marking him up on the inside. Suddenly, Bucky wanted a different kind of mark, and he was grateful that they’d fucked like this, where the temptation to bite Clint could not be acted upon.

He wasn’t sure how Clint resisted the same. Maybe he was made of sterner stuff than Bucky? Or Bucky was less desirable than Clint.

Clint rolled them to their sides, away from the wet spot Bucky had created, and lightly wrapped an arm around Bucky’s waist as they waited for Clint’s knot to go down.

“Stop thinking so hard,” Clint muttered, rubbing his hand along Bucky’s side. “I want to be here, with you, and nothin’s changing that, whatever you’re thinking. If you’re willing to give us this chance, I’m all for it.”

 _What was this?_ Bucky wanted to ask. He’d been certain they were a friends with benefits deal, as Clint had offered in the beginning, even though Bucky had gone sweet on Clint, he’d thought that… that this was still all that it was.

But Clint’s words were hinting at something more, maybe.

But he didn’t ask, too afraid to hear the answer to the question. Bucky Barnes wasn’t often a coward, but he’d surprised himself a few times recently. He’d ask, eventually. Just… not quite yet.

He was going to enjoy this, whatever it was, between them first, for however long he could.

Clint was nipping along Bucky’s shoulders, his hand still trailing in lazy circles.

“Maybe a short nap while we wait,” he said. “Then it’s my turn. Cause I really want you to fuck me into the mattress.”

Bucky’s spent cock twitched as he gasped and Clint chuckled behind him, the vibrations traveling along Bucky’s spine.

“Yeah, thought you’d like that idea…”


End file.
